Departure
by Larania Drake
Summary: The Ishbal Rebellion left many scars, on both the soldiers and the people left behind. Ed sees a scar he never believed existed in the heart of Roy Mustang. Shonenai, divergence
1. Chapter 1

Departure

Disclaimer: Full Metal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

A/N: Feel sorry for Mustang. He's a bit more messed up in this story than he is normally. This story is written for shit and giggles, like many of my other stories. Probably OOC. AU of episode 13 and later for now.

Edward slumped, feeling beyond frustrated as Al ran away with the poor kitten riding helplessly in his armor.

Dammit, he _needed_ Al right now. He was the only person who could bring him down after the Colonel's abuse. Ed hated being a dog of the military but needed the scraps they threw him.

What was even worse was the knowledge he needed Colonel Bastard even more. He had seen how a lot of the military higher-ups acted, and as much as he hated to admit it, at least this guy protected his own.

Fucking bastard and his short jokes… Morally bankrupt and ambitious womanizer… bloody manipulator…. Dog of the military… the fucking endless _short jokes_…

By the time he had arrived at the Bastard Colonel's office, he had worked himself up into a frothing rage and was set to chew off Mustang's ears.

Trying to think of an appropriately stinging epithet fling, Ed pushed open the door preparing to stomp inside with a self-righteous tirade.

Then stopped.

The bastard had yet to turn around, his chair back to the door. That in itself was unusual- he had yet to enter that jerk's office once without him sitting there, fingers threaded and elbows on his desk below that damn smirk.

"Hey."

No answer.

"Hey, Bastard."

That usually brought a response about it being _Colonel_ Bastard, Fullmetal.

Ed snarled. Of course, the sack of ooze was taking a nap while the First Lieutenant was busy.

"Hey- stop sleeping or I'm getting Hawkeye."

No answer. Apparently he was totally passed out. Growling more, he stomped over to Mustang's desk to shake him. For one thing he just _wanted_ to shake him, and rub it in his face that he'd been caught napping. For another he needed to keep the asshole alive and functioning and not ventilated.

His automail hand was reaching out to grab his collar when he realized Mustang's eyes were open.

Edward was no stranger to seeing haunted and hollow eyes. He just never expected to see them burn holes into Roy Mustang's face. He had also never thought he would see Mustang's hands clenched and shaking on the armrests of his chair.

"Oi! Bastard- Mustang! Hey-"

He snapped his real fingers in front of his face. "You're not asleep, are you? Wake up."

This was creepy. The bastard normally didn't have expressions other than Official Bland and Smirking Smugly.

Black eyes flicked in his direction without focusing.

"Hey- Colonel."

Ed put his hand on Mustang's shoulder. "Snap out of it."

Mustang's lips curled back, in a grimace of fear or anger. Ed couldn't say.

"Mustang- Roy!"

With a slight indrawn breath, the older man pulled back to reality- and Ed backed away.

"You okay?" he asked, his brows knitting together in confusion. Not that the dark haired man warranted compassion, he just- well, Ed didn't want to get a new bastard to deal with. That was all.

There was a flash of surprise as Mustang realized something had happened, but nothing more.

"It's nothing, Fullmetal." His eyebrow twitched upwards, resuming the familiar Smirking Smugly expression. Ed was almost relieved…

Until he remembered he hated the bastard.

"What was that about, Bastard?"

"That's Colonel Bastard."

"Whatever! I need to give you my report!"

"Then by all means, begin, Fullmetal."

Not quite realizing he'd been neatly derailed, Ed started- then growled again when he did realize he'd been derailed.

Fucking bastard.

The report went mostly as expected- it seemed that no matter how hard he and Al tried to stay under the radar, Mustang was able to keep tabs on them.

"Yeah, yeah… I get the point. No matter where we go, or what we do, the Great Flame Alchemist, Colonel Roy Mustang, Hero of-"

There was a sharp crack and Ed instinctively flinched back. Mustang had slammed his fists against his desk, all but leaping over it to loom over him.

(He would never admit it later, but then he felt truly, truly short.)

"_Never _call me a hero, Fullmetal. I can overlook your insubordination but that I will never forgive."

Ed was used to their sniping sessions- or rather, he'd try to get leverage, the Colonel would coolly counter him and he'd be left flailing. (He didn't want to admit it was because of the short jokes.)

He had to admit that the bastard was actually scary when he was mad- black eyes narrowed in loathing not directed at the younger alchemist, but at the words he had spoken.

That was a first.

His skin prickled and a chill walked down his spine as he realized he didn't know if he would survive long enough to use this newfound soft spot on his nemesis.

He was about to do- well, something- when there was a smart rap on the door, and both men turned.

Booted feet pounded, lining the walls with soldiers of all ranks…

Then the Fuhrer strode inside.

Ed wondered if his day could get stranger. Looking at the complete surprise on the Colonel's face, he realized it just had.

* * *

It was confusing, and somewhat uncomfortable, to be surrounded by so many of his peers. Not that he couldn't have kicked all their asses without his automail, but still…

They were all… older. Really older; and ta- uh, more distinguished.

His mind stewed over what had happened earlier. He'd never seen anything throw Colonel like that; it was unnerving to know that the guy could just… slip away. There had been other questions he'd wanted to ask but they'd been interrupted- by the Fuhrer of all things.

Of course, the moment he was in deepest thought, slurping away at bad cafeteria food and vulnerable… the predator chose to strike.

"_There_ you are! Look! Here is my darling little Elysia on her tricycle! She follows me _everywhere_ on it like _my own escort_ of cuteness! Don't you want to see the next ten?"

Choke. Cough. Sputter. Once Ed was able to breathe again he managed to look.

Ed had to admit the tyke was cute. There was no denying it. However, after the first twenty times he'd been ambushed in the past three years, it started to wear on his nerves.

"Major, you haven't changed at all…"

"It's _Lieutenant Colonel_ now."

"Whatever." Brassy eyes gleamed. Hughes was normally a ready source of information; Ed just had to figure out what questions to ask.

"How's your search gone for the," Hughes started, and coughed. "The you-know-what gone?"

"Well, we have a few leads and I haven't gotten to ask the Colonel about them yet… " The two had their heads together, close enough that it would take a determined eavesdropper to catch anything in the cacophony of the filled mess hall. "Speaking of which, have you ever seen the Colonel act… well, odd? You know, not crazy but just sort of…"

Hughes frowned, eyes distant. "Lost?"

"Yeah, that's kinda it. Scared, too. It took me a while to get his attention- first time I've ever been in his office and he's not had me pissed off in two seconds. It was…" Ed didn't like the Colonel. Yet he'd been almost afraid for him right then.

"I'm sure you're imagining it!"

"Heh?"

Hughes smile had turned massive. "And here is Elysia in her swimsuit! Isn't she the most adorable little angel you have ever seen in your life?"

Ed scrambled. Hughes was back in full blown photo-loony mode and damn if it wasn't fuckin' _scary!_

"Some other time; oh look, is that Al? I bet he's hungry I gotta run see you later!"

Ed was happy he restrained himself from making a door in the wall on his way out.

Hughes was still for a moment, smirking faintly on how he was able to distract Ed and run him off.

Kissing his daughter's photo, he tucked it back into his pocket, and headed to the door himself.

When he saw no one was coming in the hall he let the cheery façade drop.

"Dammit Roy… You'd told me you were getting better."

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

**Departure II**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

A/N: Written for shit and giggles, like most of my other writings. Divergence from episode 13, AU, and possibly OOC.

Pairing: Ed and Roy, others mentioned.

"Marco… Marco…"

It was one of the many records rooms in Eastern Command, full of mentions of the different civilian alchemists of note in the past ten years.

Edward and Alphonse had what looked like half a library scattered around.

"It's like the guy doesn't exist! No Marco, nothing at all- it goes from Matthew to Miter, but there's not Marco!"

Across from him, also adrift in the sea of paper, Al helped him flip through the pages. "Maybe you should go and ask the Colonel? Some of our best leads have come from him."

"None of those have panned out!"

"None of the ones we've found on our own have _meow_ panned out either!"

Ed blinked, suddenly suspicious. "Al… why is your chest plate purring?"

"It's still raining!"

Ed glared, about to yell when he put his hands in his face. "Why do I have to go subject myself to more abuse?"

"He's not that bad, I verbally abuse you all the time."

_Meow_

Ed's eyebrow twitched as he got to his feet to leave.

* * *

The blond alchemist chewed his bottom lip, his stomach twisting uneasily as he walked down the halls to the Colonel's office. It was late, and there wasn't much of a guarantee that Mustang would be around, but he probably would with the weirdness going on.

"...heard that Ed…"

Hughes? What was he- well, never mind. He had figured out that those two would often get their heads together.

Though he'd said Ed's name- and whenever that happened, it was a sure cue you needed to eavesdrop.

"You told me you'd gotten over it, Roy. I hadn't heard about you having an episode in years."

"I was distracted, that's all. Sometimes I get lost in thought."

"Yeah, and I've got some ocean front property in Risembool I'd like you to buy. You lied to me. It wasn't anything bad _this_ time but what if you start blowing things up? What if you choke doing something else? Even worse- what if someone like Gran finds out? That bastard would _love_ to know he'd actually succeeded. _Finally,_ someone has _broken_ the _Mustang!_" Hughes ended; his tone was a low hiss.

Ed swallowed. Maybe he shouldn't be listening to this.

Who was he kidding? He wouldn't have left if someone walked up with the Philosopher's Stone.

"You're worrying too much."

"Am I? You think you're talking to some other Hughes?"

"This was the first one in as many years."

"So you're admitting it still happens."

Ed's mind flailed, trying to understand what exactly they were talking about. It was utterly unthinkable that Mustang had ever been _broken_, whatever that meant. Lovely blackmail material, perhaps; but he didn't want to use something like that against him. It just felt wrong and unfair. He wanted to beat the bastard face to face.

"Well, obviously if someone like Fullmetal could walk in on me and catch it."

He took it all back. By tomorrow, everyone would know.

"Oh drop it. You forget who you're talking to, Roy."

There was a low, deep snort in answer. "Like I could forget."

"Get over it. I'm straighter than a pencil, Roy." He heard Hughes make a gusty sigh.

Ed nearly fell over and completely forgot any other plans he might have. Roy and Hughes? Eww!

"So, you going to tell me what happened this time?"

There was a long, deep silence, punctuated with the sound of the occasional roll of thunder.

"I had been reading a few reports about Xenotime. There had been rumors about red stones there for years now."

"Oh _fuck_."

Ed swallowed again.

Mustang was frighteningly quiet.

"I remember the rumors during the war. That's what set you off? Hell… I know you still can't say anything. Still "top secret" and all…"

Ed really wished he could barge in there and start asking questions. He almost did- if it wasn't for the sinking feeling that those two men would clam up tight.

"I saw the report and… and the next thing I know he's there."

"Roy… I wish you could tell me what it is you keep reliving."

"Top secret, remember?"

Hughes blew a raspberry, presumably at Mustang.

"Ed asked about Marco- and that's another thing you can't tell me about. Never did tell me about, at any rate."

"Hmm."

Oh, now Ed was _really_ pissed.

"He was a deserter; that much was in the records. You can tell me more, can't you?"

"Not much else to tell."

"Dammit Roy! Stop trying to do this alone! You can't keep protecting Ed, you can't keep protecting Marco!"

Ed's mouth dropped. Say _what?_

"Just- please. Roy."

"He called me a hero," Mustang said, flatly. "If he knew the truth about me… well, at least there's someone who would put this old dog out of his misery."

Edward really _was_ going to put someone down if they didn't get to the point soon!

"Roy… I'd tell you to stop pitying yourself if I thought it would do any good. You're hurt, Roy."

Right. He'd believe if he… well, wait. Ed had seen it.

"Stop treating me like I'm made of glass, Maes. I'm a big boy. I'll deal."

Ed would have sat there and frothed in frustration if there hadn't been an equally frustrated noise from Hughes and the sound of footsteps to the door.

It was, unfortunately, too late for Ed to run away.

Roy didn't see Maes out, and Maes had closed the door slowly, his eyes fixing on Ed in surprise and dry amusement.

"How much of that did you hear?"

Ed squirmed. He didn't want admit he'd been caught eavesdropping- but he'd been caught eavesdropping.

"Everything from 'You'd told me you'd gotten over it'," Edward muttered, fidgeting and twisting his fingers. He liked Hughes, and he didn't want to lie to him directly…

The Lt. Colonel sighed, sending a glare at Mustang's door.

"Come walk with me for a while?"

Ed didn't think he had much choice.

Hughes didn't say anything, didn't even change his expression until they'd gotten on to the Eastern Command roof.

Ed would look up at him occasionally, wondering he would ask first. There was Marco, the red stones, the straight-as-a-pencil comment…

Hughes, predictably, beat him to the punch.

"I'm going to ask you to please keep this to yourself," the older man began abruptly, startling Ed from his thoughts. Ed's eyebrow went up at that, and Hughes took off his glasses to rub his eyes.

"I don't know what you know about the war in Ishbal-"

"Part of the Eastern Rebellion, right?"

"If you want to put it that way… Roy was part of the group of alchemists assigned to help quell the rebellion. Up until then, he'd just done research, but..."

Ed watched Hughes' jaw tighten. "He'd been a bright, hopeful kid until then. We'd been through academy together, but… when he came back, he was someone else. That's not unusual in and of itself…"

He continued to listen, eyebrow cocked. "Yes?"

"Roy has flashbacks, Ed. Bad ones. When he first came back, Gracia and I would take turns with him to make sure he wouldn't eat his gun, but that wasn't the worst part. Something would happen and- he would be gone. His mind would just slip off to relive whatever it was that happened."

Hughes had a half smile on his face, but it was more like he was bearing his teeth at the memory. "Sometimes he'd act on those memories, sometimes he wouldn't. I don't know what they made him do, but whatever it was, he can't talk about it."

"And you're telling me this, why?" Ed couldn't think of a purpose other than it made his stomach feel mighty queer.

"The higher ups can't find out. I know you don't care about the inner workings of the military, Ed, but Mustang pulled himself together and he's been making himself into something. He made a promise and I want to see him carry through." The smile on the older man's face was real this time, if sad. "Roy needs to succeed- for everyone's sake."

"Uh huh. And the pencil comment?" That was _not_ what Ed had planned on asking! His mouth had disconnected from his brain. That was the only explanation.

Hughes barked in laughter, covering his mouth with his hand and giving Ed a sly smile. "Well, some people swing both ways. I don't."

Ed wondered if he had stepped through the Gate and was in some bizarre alternate universe. Okay, intellectually he had known people did things to further the species but of course, he'd never done anything about it… And the only significant relationship he'd ever had was with his left hand, and that was just so he could get through his hormones long enough to get back to tracking down the Stone.

The Colonel swung both ways? Was that legal? Did that mean..?

Ah, what did he care?

"Well, we still tease each other about it because friends are safe to crush on." Hughes gave Ed a strange look- and Ed found himself blushing for no good reason.

Fighting through the sudden spate of totally out of character embarrassment, Ed tried to bring himself back around. "You can't tell me he doesn't know anything about Marco then."

"If he does, he's not talking. It could be one of those war things he doesn't want to talk about, or that he can't talk about."

Ed growled, bristling, before he wrapped his arms around himself to huff.

"You could ask him anyways. He might tell _you_."

There was something off about how Hughes had said that.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm not going to tell you," Hughes seemed terribly amused by this. Then he looked up, eyeing the heavy clouds above their heads. "We should be going back in. You probably need sleep- and, yeah, I forgot. Your assessment is coming up. We'll talk about it later after a good night's sleep."

Ed wanted to jump up and down in frustration and from too many unanswered questions- but at least he had a good idea of where to start now.

"Well good night then, Edward. I'll see you in the morning!" Hughes called, giving him a two fingered wave. Of course he left Ed standing there when it started to rain.

Not that Ed noticed- he had too many things to think about.

To be continued.

A/N: In case you haven't noticed, Roy has post traumatic stress disorder. Though they are not going to call it that, I think one of the earliest references was "shell shock" or something of the like. I don't think psychiatry as a medical field is very well known in Amestris quite yet, so its not been identified or treated.


	3. Chapter 3

Departure III

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Eventual Ed/Roy, others mentioned

A/N: Written for shit and giggles and probably OOC. Divergence from episode 13.

Ed eventually remembered that rain would adversely affect his health if he continued to let himself get wet. He couldn't really afford that- he would rust, for once thing.

Winry would have his ass on a plate for that. It was about the only uncomplicated thought in his head.

He eventually figured out that going down the stairs would take him someplace dry… It had to share space with everything else he had to worry about.

Edward Elric was a prodigy- when it came to alchemy. He had seen the Truth, could make himself into a living alchemy circle and could recite texts that men older and wiser could barely comprehend.

Human interaction was completely off his radar.

Most of his life had been spent in a simple place- Risembool. War was a foreign legend, crime happened in cities, marriage was arranged often for cows and politics involved pies for votes. Intellectually he had known those things existed, but when he found them in reality it threw him for a loop.

Now he had several messy human things thrown at him, and he had to decide how to react.

The simplest, and the one he was most inclined to follow, was to ignore it. It had nothing to do with his quest for the Philosopher's Stone or getting Al's body back. He was only involved with these people because they were an expedient way towards his goals. Why did that thought bother him then?

"Its simple brother- you know them and you care about them now."

Ed's mouth fell open and he blinked, realizing that at some point he had… wait, he was still in the halls.

Yet there Al was, standing over him and holding the kitten he'd rescued.

"Al?"

"You were talking to yourself, brother," Al said, not unkindly. "You were muttering about the people here not mattering and why it bothered you."

Ed felt his face heat up, and then sighed. "And you just had to come looking for me, huh?"

"No, I came out to get some milk for kitty…"

Ed twitched. "Come on. I need to tell you why I think I've gone insane."

"Again?"

* * *

"… and I just don't get it. He's a pain in the ass and he never tells us everything and he always wants to make fun of- of- my skills! Yeah, that's right, my skills! I'm a great alchemist you know! He has no right to treat me like that!" Ed snarled, sitting next to Al as the armor put a small saucer of milk down for the cat. "But- but he was hurt, and I _saw_ that. And that shouldn't matter to me at all and _dammit_ I forgot to ask about Marco but all Mustang would tell Hughes was that he was a deserter but he knew that anyways! Then Hughes was saying that he was straighter than a pencil and then I wondered what the HELL that meant because the thought of Hughes and Mustang is- just freaky! I mean the guy has a wife and kid! Mustang's only dated girls! I never heard he liked guys before! Its creepy, can you imagine him- him- doing that? With Hughes? Or anyone other guy?"

Al wondered why Ed seemed so intent on bringing that last point up. Again. In the last fifteen minutes he had to have mentioned five times.

Wait, now it was six.

"Why does it keep bothering me?" Ed finally snarled, throwing his arms up in the air. "I have no reason to care! Ishbal has nothing to do with us!"

"Maybe its equivalent exchange?"

That got Ed's attention right away.

"Say what? What's so equivalent about it?" Ed screeched wind-milling his arms.

"Well, when we were hurt, Colonel Mustang came to us and helped us try to find a path to follow to get our bodies back. Now you've found out that he's hurt. Maybe you want to help him?"

"Help him? Help that arrogant son-of-a-bitch who likes to piss me off at every turn?"

"He does it just because you're funny when you're mad, brother," Al said, absently. "Besides, you're always insulting him back."

"Stop making it sound like we're teasing each other! I hate that bastard's guts!"

"You do not; you thought he was cool when you first saw him roast that terrorist!"

Ed flushed and turned away. "I do not think he's cool."

"Whatever you say, brother." At least he wasn't talking about how strange it was for Mustang to want Hughes. Al wondered why his brother was so fixated… maybe it was just his personality. He was more than a bit obsessive, after all.

"Well, what are you going to do now?"

"I…"

"We still need to find out what he knows about Marco."

"He flips out whenever someone mentions the red stone!"

"And you've said you don't care about the Colonel."

Ed stopped, leaving his jaw to flap in the wind.

* * *

To anyone who would have been watching, Ed was having an argument. However, as it was totally soundless and there was only one person there in the hall, it was readily apparent that the only person Ed was arguing with was, indeed, himself.

It didn't seem that Ed had caught on yet.

His hands waved, emotions flashed across his face as he provided dialogue for both parties and his mouth worked soundlessly as he headed towards Mustang's office.

It was extremely early- so early that most officers were either out training or were still asleep. It was the time of torturing recruits or the perpetually and terminally organized to arrive.

Since Hawkeye wasn't even there yet, Ed had the halls to himself.

Ed was so caught up in his pretend argument with the Colonel (complete with short jokes and insults about dogs and would you _please_ explain about your crush on Hughes?) that he had stepped into the man's office without even realizing the man was not there.

For once he was winning the argument, which was a good sign. He had always wanted to get the excuse to beat his head in, especially about how he knew everything they were doing.

(And he still hadn't quite noticed he was arguing with no one but himself.)

Wait- wasn't it usually brighter in here?

Blinking, Ed realized that… no one was in the office. There were traces of the man- papers on the desk and a half empty coffee cup, making him wonder if Mustang had just stepped out for some reason. Maybe he had to take a piss.

This was when Ed realized he really had no way to explain why he was there. He usually wouldn't care, but… well. He'd already had this talk and if Mustang hadn't there for his part…

Footsteps could be heard outside in the hall- and Ed realized there were two of them.

There was no way in hell he was going to let himself get chewed out in front of someone else- so he dived underneath Mustang's desk.

His thought process was something akin to someone jumping out a burning building from the tenth floor. At least you weren't burning- once you were out the window you could figure something out.

Two sets of military issue boots rang as they entered Mustang's office, and stopped just in front of the desk. Ed chewed the inside of his cheek as he considered alchemizing the floor to get away.

He had forgotten that the rest of Central Command was there- and there were two voices. One was Mustang- not surprising, he was under his desk- and another was a hated voice from three years ago.

"Are you forgetting who holds your leash, Mustang?" the voice sneered, and Ed felt his shoulders hunch.

"No, I haven't," Mustang answered, tightly. Ed wondered why eavesdropping on Mustang seemed to be his new favorite activity.

Well, it was useful, he guessed. Of course he didn't really like having to use this method but… uh, it was Mustang. All bets were off.

There was a snort and growl from the other man… whom Ed guessed to Brigadier General Basque Gran.

"You forget yourself, _Colonel_…" There was more than a sneer in this other man's voice. "You are still a dog of the military… You still have to follow orders- mine, as a ranking officer."

Silence again.

Ed could swear he heard Mustang's teeth grinding.

"We could always transfer away your subordinates… after all, I'm sure I could find more useful places for such talented individuals…"

There was soft rubbing- and Ed guessed that Mustang was twitching his fingers together as he listened to them rasp.

"Or, even more fun. You've really allowed Fullmetal too much slack in the reigns. I hear he's looking for the Philosopher's Stone… I wonder, what he would do if we got him involved in the actual research?"

Ed's heart stopped.

"You've done your best to keep his hands clean these past few years; that's impossible, especially when it comes to the Philosopher's Stone," Gran went on. "He's so desperate to get his hands on it… don't you think he'd sell his soul?" The sneer in Gran's voice deepened. "The Fullmetal Alchemist, the hero of the people… just as dirty as you."

"Or lest I forget, you did shoot two of your friends in Ishbal… Traitors, but you've always enjoyed associating with traitors…"

Ed wanted to be away. Anywhere but where he was. Mustang knew something more about the Stone? But he was- trying to…

"Oh, I thought you would like to know, we never were able to prove you helped Marco desert."

"But we didn't need him anymore. We've proceeded. Don't you want to know what we've been doing?"

"I'd rather not," Mustang answered, finally breaking in on Gran's tirade. "Then I can at least pretend I'm not aware of the things you do."

"You killed two innocent doctors and you can still pretend to be righteous? How quaint. I'm merely obeying orders, same as you."

Ed felt the urge to retch.

"I will never be the same as you," Mustang stated- and Ed jumped at the sound of metal colliding with flesh and bone. It was followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor.

"No, you won't." Gran snorted. "You'll always be a spineless coward."

Gran was chuckling to himself as his heavy steps left the room.

There was a soft groan from the Colonel. "Over my fucking corpse," he hissed, and Ed heard the soft sound of cloth shifting, and a faint laugh. "Not sure whose going to get me killed first… Ed or you, you sonuvabitch…"

Ed jumped again when his name was mentioned- and this time he knew he'd been heard.

To be continued.


	4. Chapter 4

Departure IV

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all, and no insult was meant to the original creators or work.

Pairings: Eventual Roy/Ed, others mentioned

A/N: Written for shit and giggles, like much of my other writing. I'm glad people are enjoying this. Thank you all for reading and following so far, I hope to finish this.

Ironically it was the sound of his own head colliding with the wood of Mustang's desk that gave him away.

"Who's… there?"

Ed winced- both from the sharp pain in his skull and from the slurring in Mustang's voice. He knew the sound of metal on flesh very well, and that Gran wore a metal gauntlet. He also realized, with a sinking in the pit of his stomach, that there was no way for him to get out now. If he made a hole in the floor, Mustang would immediately know who it was and if he just stayed there, he might get roasted.

"Come out… slowly. Hands where… I can… see them."

Cursing softly, Ed raised his hands, and emerged from underneath the desk to slowly turn to face the Colonel.

The man was in sorry shape.

That Mustang, whose hand was out and ready to snap, would be staring at him with this lost expression, his face already starting to swell and his jaw at an awkward angle… Blood was dribbling from his split lip.

Ed winced. That jaw had to be dislocated.

"Fur- Fullmetal?"

Lost eyes, dead eyes… Ed hated those eyes. The bastard was freezing up, his hand locked in place.

"Colonel." Ah, dammit. They could scream at each other once he stopped bleeding. Walking over carefully, his eyes drifted over the man's form. His uniform was rumpled, and the blood had left dark spots on the bright blue. He looked a far cry from his normal polish.

Fullmetal fought down a flood of homicidal rage at Basque Gran, for even thinking about hitting the Colonel. It was like damaging a sculpture or defacing a painting, to hurt that pretty face.

Dammit- where the fuck had that come from? Now not only did he have to wonder why the world was off its axis he had to deal with his own impending insanity!

Then again, maybe he should deal with Mustang first…

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Ed would normally have taken offence, but he was paying more attention to the fact that Roy couldn't get his words out completely.

"I was coming to kick your ass for information- but I think I've got that now," Ed admitted, barely a step away from the man. He carefully put his automail fingers on Mustang's hand, forcing it down- then brought his flesh hand up to feel along Mustang's jaw.

"Who are you and what have you done with- oww…"

"It's not broken," Edward muttered, still carefully feeling it. He'd dealt with his own broken bones often enough before. "But-"

He moved quickly, or Mustang would have dodged- and bitch slapped the jaw back into place.

There was a resounding crack and curse, both of them disgustingly satisfying sounds to Ed. How long had he wanted to do that very thing..?

"FUCK!"

Then again…

"What the- you could have been more gentle, pipsqueak!"

Ed snarled. "WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE COULDN'T DECK YOU IN THE FACE WITHOUT A STEPSTOOL?"

Mustang's expression edged from lost to hint at mischief. "I don't need to insult you when you do such a good job yourself."

Ed stopped, and then stomped towards the door. He stomped out the door and down the hall. He stomped out the door, down the hall, and to the restroom where a sharp clap could be heard.

Mustang's face was blank but his body screamed confusion when Edward returned, carrying an icepack.

"Don't get any ideas, Colonel Bastard," he said, more to remind himself than anything else. "I'm going to get all those answers out of you but I can't _do_ that if you can't use your mouth!"

Mustang blinked again- like he had never considered Ed might do something halfway considerate.

"Hey, you…"

"I know, you're an adult, the Great Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People-"

"Don't say that," Ed snapped. "I'm no one's fuckin' hero. No more than you! What the hell was Gran talking about? What do you know about the red stone?" He gently applied the icepack to Roy's face.

Mustang was quiet as Ed slowly moved it back and forth, and they stared at each other. "Why did you send us on wild goose chases if you knew something?"

There was silence for several moments as Roy's eyes focused on his face, frowning despite the ache in his jaw. Ed nearly bared his teeth in response- but he kept the icepack in place.

Fullmetal's emotions were mixed and torn as his eyes locked with Mustang's. On the one hand…

He was well and truly pissed.

He had conclusive proof that Mustang knew something about the Philosopher's Stone. The ass wipe was sending them on pointless missions and rumors just to jerk their chains. The military knew about the Stone, and was actively trying to create it. That they knew the secret of creating it, and that…

That it would mean selling his soul, for whatever reason.

This was where he became confused. Gran had confirmed that they knew of the Stone, but hinted about something dark and terrible, and that all that stood between them was Mustang. That Mustang was doing _something_ to protect him, and that Mustang had some horrible sin hanging over his head.

He had killed two friends, Gran had said. Traitors. Two doctors.

There was something about those words that tickled his memory but it was shoved aside by everything else.

Mustang, in the mean time, seemed to be considering how much to actually say.

"Don't think you can weasel out of this just cause he said you were protecting me," Ed muttered- but again, his hands didn't move. Mustang did seem to appreciate the ice, leaning into it.

"Have you ever heard of Pandora's box, Fullmetal?"

Ed blinked. "Yeah… sorta. A human woman was given a box and told never to open it. Eventually she did and all the evils in the world came out." His jaw tightened. "I'm not a damn girl…"

"But you have the curiosity and the box in front of you."

Ed pulled the ice away to glare. "I don't want to argue metaphors with you. Stop talking in circles and get to the point."

Mustang's returning snarl made Ed put the ice back.

"You want to open this box then? You sinned out of love- which is more than the rest of us can say. Do you really want to know? Do you want to be as damned as the rest of us? Even if you don't believe in god, surely you believe in hell!"

Ed sat back, reining in his temper, twitching.

"Gran said you were protecting us. From what?"

"What do you know of the Ishbal Rebellion?"

Ed wished the Colonel would stop throwing out the random comments. "About as much as anyone…" He didn't think bringing up what he'd heard from Hughes would be terribly bright.

"The State Alchemists were used as living weapons in that war- though we weren't really weapons, we were executioners." Mustang's mouth twisted. "But we couldn't have caused the sheer destruction we did without help."

Ed was fairly good at putting two and two together.

"They had the philosopher's stone and you _used_ it?"

"No- not the complete stone." Mustang rubbed his jaw a bit- and was surprised to find that Ed was still holding the icepack in place. "Prototypes that were full of flaws, completely unstable and they were likely to rebound at any time. I was… lucky enough… to see a few of the results."

Ed winced; rebounds were never pretty. Though there were still plenty of things he had questions about. He opened his mouth- and Mustang cut him off.

"Dr. Marco had been heading up the research on the red stones. He was the one who gave certain of us pieces to use, after Gran ordered him." Mustang's face was twisted in a strange smile.

"The Ishbal War was a massacre, pure and simple. The justification for war was flimsy… and I don't know all the details myself. I have to explain about what happened so you can understand why Marco deserted."

Edward nodded, confused.

"And it doesn't go beyond this room. I can't tell you without telling Al, but no one else. Even your best friends- understood?"

Ed's eyes narrowed. Now he knew he would not like what he would hear.

"My affinities made me a great weapon, and with the stones we were nearly unstoppable. But some of us… some of us… protested. One of my colleagues had a nervous breakdown and had to be sent home." Mustang looked away. "If I could, I would let the children go…"

Ed inhaled, horror making him feel like he'd swallowed broken glass as his mind filled in what Mustang had not said. _There were times when I could not._

Predictably he went off on another tangent.

"There was a pair of doctors, a married couple, who had been sent to Ishbal. If you were injured, you were treated- no matter which side you were on. They only wanted to save lives. It was an island of kindness and sanity in that chaos. If you were injured, you were healed, and if you were healthy enough to hold a compress or give someone water, you were pressed into service. Several of us would go there just to be reminded what it was like to help people."

_And you did too,_ Ed realized, astonished.

"The unfortunate side effect, of course, was that we weren't as effective. We questioned orders… I didn't burn people as quickly as I should have. Its hard to kill someone at night you helped bandage that afternoon."

Ed knew where this was going. He'd heard Gran, but he couldn't turn away, either.

Then he realized that Mustang had left- his body was sitting there looking at his fingers, curled like they were holding a gun.

"Gran honestly didn't care who those doctors treated, but he cared that they'd reminded his dogs they were human. He decided to make an example. He ordered me to execute my two friends that night."

Mustang's voice turned softer as he spoke, until his lips were moving without sound. The words looked like apologies, his arm coming up and out, before dropping it again.

"I'm a lousy shot… he wanted me to use a gun. Didn't matter… close range…"

His hands were shaking.

"Mustang?"

"Just orders. I tried to back out, somehow… but my hands were already so dirty…"

"Colonel?"

"But he went with me. He wanted it to look like some Ishbalans had done it. They were happy when they saw me, offered me some tea… They'd gotten a letter from home and were celebrating. Then Gran told me to do it. I wanted to run, but I couldn't. I should have refused the orders but I was too afraid…"

"Mustang?" Ed's voice rose. The man was seriously starting to freak him out.

"If I had refused they would have sent me to that place… the one where they developed the stones and I would never have come out again. I don't know where it is but… but Gran told me I'd make a pretty chimera…"

Ed's stomach twisted again.

"And I shot them."

"Mustang, stop."

"Then… well. Marco found me… after. I almost found the courage that time."

Ed noted he didn't sound distant that time- he was so matter of fact that Ed wanted to retch again. Especially when he pointed towards himself as he aimed his imaginary gun.

"Marco decided to desert that night, and took most of his research with him. I think it held them up for a few years… but I have stayed out of Gran's jurisdiction. He's told me more than once that he likes pretty things," Mustang muttered, rubbing his jaw again.

"And he wanted you to know that he's caught up without Marco's research." It wasn't a question.

Mustang nodded.

"So… why have you been running me around in circles for the past three years?" he asked- though most of the venom was gone. In its place was a weird feeling of pity and… maybe compassion?

Mustang turned to look at him, tilting his head to the side.

"What would you have done if someone other than me had found you?"

Ed paused. Mustang, morally bankrupt asshole… verses Gran. It made him shudder.

"You've been trying to keep me from becoming you."

Another nod.

"Whatever is wrong, and dark, with the Philosopher's Stone- I've tried to keep you running to find a cure for yourself… and away from whatever Gran's been working on."

Ed's teeth ground together.

"But we still need to find the stone, to get our bodies back."

Mustang gave him a flat look, and Ed wanted to scoot back along the couch. He put the icepack in Mustang's hand, letting his real fingers trace his jaw.

"I won't lose my soul, Mustang." He felt a weird flutter in his stomach, only it wasn't unpleasant this time. "Trust me a little okay?"

"I can't answer your questions." Mustang didn't seem to be in any hurry to move… and Ed realized he should. He just didn't want to yet.

"Tell me more about Marco."

"No."

Ed looked at him, swallowing hard.

_If I didn't have Al, and if I hadn't had _him… _What would I have become? What if I had had someone to tell me 'no' all those years ago? _

_Dammit, I want to comfort a man who killed people. A man who is more of a sinner than I am. _

_A man who understands regretting your sins…_

Ed rose to his feet, bangs shielding his eyes.

"I still need that information from you- and I will get it. Trust me on that."

Mustang's tired eyes made Edward waver briefly. He did have his promise to Al, after all.

"And I'll keep protecting you, Fullmetal."

Ed wondered why that didn't piss him off as it usually did, as turned and left the office.

To be continued.


	5. Chapter 5

Departure V

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me, and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Ed and Roy, others mentioned

Warnings: Shonen-ai (eventually), divergence from Ep. 13, and AU.

A/N: I think I found a plot. Go me. Written for shit and giggles- I'm not taking this seriously. If you do, remember Mark Twain's warning.

Summary: Ed discovers an old scar in the heart of Colonel Mustang, one that never truly healed.

Ed huffed, and puffed, and did his best to blow Al over.

It was a futile effort; Al was just too big and heavy... not to mention the "t" word.

Still, it was a shame that the hot air being generated wasn't being put to use. Al wished he could find a way to store all the energy his brother wasted. That way he wouldn't eat so much and they wouldn't be running out of money. It would mean they could increase the funds they had for research- but they could also use it for helping people like in Xenotime or Youswell. Perhaps it was a side-effect of being able to use alchemy without circles? After all, if the energy was constantly cycling through him it had to be expended somehow...

"Al, are you listening to me?"

"Yes?"

"What was the last thing I said?"

Al, who had been quite content zoning while his brother ranted, went blank before answering.

"You're still freaked out about the straight-as-a-pencil comment?"

"ARRGH!"

This exclamation did not mean that Al was right or wrong... yet he would have been horribly surprised if he had been wrong.

"_No,_ that had nothing to do with it, thank you very much! Even if it is still freaking me out! No, I was talking about how Mustang said he'd keep protecting me! I need to find out about Marco! I should go right up to Basque Gran and-"

Al, who had heard the pertinent information before his mental vacation, made a sound like he was inhaling.

Ed turned to look at him.

"Brother... Gran made him kill _two doctors._ Two innocent people. What would he do to you? What would he do..."

"To you?"

Ed's face turned green. Whatever it was he saw in his mind's eye was making him want to throw up, and Alphonse patted his shoulder carefully.

"He was the man who tried to take Nina away, and he did get Tucker, remember? He was the man who sponsored Tucker, right? What else has that guy done? Do you really want to get involved with him?"

Ed wavered, before leaning up against Al's steel chest.

"But if it means getting you back..."

"I don't want you to, Ed." Here he was firm. There was no wavering in his tone. "You do something stupid like that- and I will destroy my blood seal myself."

Ed stared at him in horror, before swallowing and nodding, putting his hands over his face. Al looked away- he didn't think Ed would want to see his moment of weakness.

"I'm not going to _him_," he whispered. "I will never let that happen. But I have to find out where Marco is."

"Well, maybe you should do something to get it out of him."

"_Ahhhhh!_"

Al hadn't heard someone come in over the wind his brother was making. Turning, both boys found a grinning Maes Hughes standing at their backs.

"Hi boys! Have you seen this picture? It's Elysia's last Halloween picture, doesn't she make an adorable kitty cat? And, oh yes, I was here on my way to talk about your assessment." Maes pale eyes glittered dangerously, and Ed backed away. Al wanted to join him... Suit of armor or not, the man was good with his knives.

"I have other things to worry about right now!" Ed protested, and Al wondered how his grave stone should read. Oh yes, Beloved Brother... too brave for his own good...

"Yes, you talked to Roy. I also get the impression he told you a few things he doesn't want me knowing, right?"

Ed squirmed, and Al mused over open casket or closed. Considering how Hughes was approaching... Closed was a good option.

He might consider trying to resurrect his brother but that might wind up with two of them in suits of armor.

Not a good thought.

"Well, he asked me not to tell anyone but Al." Ed was positively squirming, and Hughes looked positively murderous.

"No one but Al, huh?" His face contorted, before breathing through his teeth like an animal. Ed shrank back... Before coming up full force.

"Yeah, what of it? He wouldn't tell me about the Philosopher's Stone or anything else of value, either!"

"Then you weren't listening, as usual."

Al would have grimaced, if he'd had a face. He'd really be sad if there was a double funeral...

"If we can stop the posturing?" Alphonse asked, and both males turned on him.

"STAY OUT OF IT, AL!"

He backed away.

"I'll help you get information out of him if you tell me what happened," Hughes growled.

Ed's eyes narrowed. "An equal exchange? I can't promise you'll be happy with what you hear."

"I can't promise you'll win."

Ed twitched, then nodded. "But you'll get your information _after_ I get mine, got it?"

"It will be worth it to see you two go at it. Think about it... the Flame versus the Fullmetal. Quite a grudge match, don't you think?"

Ed's jaw hit his knees.

"Wuh?"

"I'm talking about a battle assessment, Ed."

* * *

The battle assessment had seemed like a great idea at the time. What Ed hadn't counted on was Mustang acting like a total spaz.

Well... now he knew why Hughes and Mustang got along so well.

"I'll follow you everyone Mustang!" Havoc sang, nearly humping the man's knee as he clung. The declaration of all female officers being required to wear miniskirts couldn't be serious... could it?

For a moment, he imagined wearing a miniskirt himself and promptly tried to pull his hair out. He would wear nothing mini! He was not mini!

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE CAN'T WEAR A FULL SIZED SKIRT?" he snarled- then slapped his fist so fast over his mouth that he winced. There would probably be a nasty bruise there later.

Havoc was still off in a daze, Hawkeye had already left before things got too silly...

But the look on Mustang's face said he had heard Fullmetal _perfectly_.

Of course, Colonel Bastard didn't get a chance to respond- Ed had run like hell.

* * *

The battle assessment was being held, much to the chagrin of a certain Colonel and the insane cackling of three conspirators.

Maes would have given Ed tips, if he'd asked. Being Ed, he didn't.

"And now I finally get to kick that bastard's ass in front of everyone and finally get some damn respect!"

"Do you have a strategy, Ed?" Al asked, holding the kitten tenderly. He was really only there to make sure the itty bitty kitty found a good home. Beating up Mustang was only secondary- he didn't care much. Mustang had helped them, but if it made Ed happy to indulge in violence... Well, Mustang probably knew how to duck.

He'd seen Mustang roast that terrorist, but he wasn't _too_ worried about his brother. After all, they had a great mechanic.

"I told you! I'm going to hit him with my fist!"

Well, at least he was confident.

The two alchemists faced off across the parade grounds, eyeing each other like two gunfighters.

"I don't give a shit about passing the assessment," Ed said, almost too low to be heard about the din of the crowd. Most of peanut gallery was jeering. "If you lose- you have to tell me about Marco, and you get a new cat."

"I'm not going to get cat litter just yet, Fullmetal," Mustang answered, then smirked. Al noted that Ed's face turned red. "I didn't get to comment on your eloquence yesterday... a full length skirt wouldn't fit you at all."

Ed nearly had a seizure.

"In fact, I think a miniskirt might be too long on you. You really should stick to those leather pants."

Maes was standing there, holding in the giggles that shook his shoulders.

"Ready..." he carefully backed up, because he, if no one else, knew what was coming.

"Ready set _fight_!"

_"What the fuck?_"

"Too slow."

_Crack. Boom._

Ed barely had time to dodge and roll from the first explosion.

"Fuck!"

Al's jaw would have been flapping, if he had a jaw. Mustang was _good_ at what he did. Brother was able to create pure destruction, but Mustang had finesse.

Not that the Colonel didn't cause destruction. Al had to hide the kitty.

"Go Brother!" Al cheered, when he used the smoke as a distraction to set up a trap. Finally, he was using his brain!

The massive cannon was impressive... Until everyone remembered that Roy wore two gloves.

"All war is deception. Think your enemy has a weakness, and it becomes his strength." Roy's eyes were pinning Ed to the ground. Al wondered if Ed was getting the entire message there... Whatever he thought about Roy, his weaknesses- they were as much strengths.

"I don't need your fucking lectures," Ed answered, and Al rolled his metaphorical eyes. "Just finish me off."

Mustang's expression was humorous... before he froze.

Al realized why Ed had been so bothered by Mustang's eyes. Black holes staring at something so _wrong_...

Al shivered. He wasn't there in that fight anymore-

And Ed took advantage of it, thrusting his automail spear point to graze his throat.

"That's enough," a mocking voice called, and Ed dropped his arm almost before the Fuhrer spoke.

"Mustang?" he asked, changing his arm back and unconsciously reaching out to touch his chest.

"You two can stop now, I'm convinced that both of you are fully capable Alchemists. I'm grateful to have you on board."

Ed was looking into Mustang's face, before turning and doing something he very rarely did. He saluted.

"Thank you, Fuhrer sir," he said, in a rare show of humility. It was about as real as plastic fruit, but it passed at a glance. He had, instinctively tried to hide Mustang from the group that approached them. Maybe not from the Fuhrer... strange man though he was... but from Basque Gran, who had a speculative gleam in his eyes.

The man was looking up at Mustang, and he wondered if Gran was cataloguing every speck of sweat and out of place hair. There was more in that look than just eyeing a wounded animal. He was imagining something else. Narrowing his eyes, Ed put up his metaphorical hackles. The sudden, insane protectiveness that had infected him made him want to growl at the Iron Blood Alchemist. Someone who cared about him (but not the other way around) was injured and fuck if he was going to let that man even _think_ about whatever he was thinking about.

He remembered the dead eyes and words, saying Gran liked pretty things.

So he completely missed Gran's speculative look in his own direction.

"Thank you for the good match, Fullmetal," Mustang cut in on his thoughts, rasping slightly. There was a gloved hand on his shoulder.

Ed relaxed, just a tad.

"That was impressive," the Fuhrer went on, like everyone else had ceased to exist. Ed didn't want to look at his secretary, because Gran was so close, and Mustang still didn't sound quite right.

"And now, you two need to clean all this up," the military dictator chimed- and Ed nearly fell forward.

"Sir, yes sir!"

"This sucks!" Ed whined, clapping his hands to smooth out a patch of the ruined field. He could hear Mustang yawning behind him.

"Hey, Bastard..."

The Colonel turned, and Ed stopped as he looked at him.

He was sitting, at ease, face relaxed, and Ed had the bizarre thought he was looking at a fallen god of war, or maybe fire. The sunset was turning his white shirt red; it could have been blood or flame. He was tired, yes. He was careworn, yes. Beautiful and majestic, and at any moment he would take back his place in the heavens to smite those who had dared cross him.

It was an uncomfortable epiphany, to realize he thought Mustang was beautiful enough to inspire poetic shit in him.

Somehow that was harder to deal with then the idea of Mustang _protecting_ him.

"Huh?"

Until he opened his mouth, and Ed wanted to hit him again.

"I know why you froze up, and..." And what, he wanted to claim his reward? He really hadn't won- there was none of the satisfaction that came from an honest fight. His opponent was already wounded and had fought him to victory, only to be defeated by himself.

Mustang exhaled, looking down at his shovel.

"Maybe you should go talk to Doctor Marco. I can't explain to you why the Philosopher's Stone is such a horrible thing, but he could. He was the one who developed the prototype we used. A true, real Stone, I don't want to think about. I hope you can find it without going our path."

Ed shivered.

"He's alive..?"

Roy turned and nodded at him, eyes narrowed in a smirk. Suddenly things seemed right again, because things were as they should be. Mustang was smirking and sending him someplace, and Ed had a solid lead. Perhaps his first ever.

"If the stone is so awful, why are you still helping me, if you said you wanted to protect me?"

Ed noticed that Roy had stopped looking at him, and was staring across the field. Three shapes were there, along with Al and Hawkeye.

The Fuhrer, his secretary, and Basque Gran.

"Because I may not be able to, for too much longer."

To be continued.


	6. Chapter 6

**Departure VI**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairing: Roy and Ed, others mentioned

Warnings: Divergence after episode 13, emo!Roy, shonen-ai and spoilers for Ishbal.

A/N: And we now wade off into the murky yonder... because I really just wanted to write something about the PTSD. Now we go to where I have only vague ideas. Beware, this will turn into Roy/Ed, and possibly Scar/Al. I can't help it, Scar is my favorite tragic character ever. I hope I can maintain my plot... I have a bunny for a Roy!genderswitch fic. Really. Dammit.

"Then he told me where Marco was," Ed said, dully recounting his conversation with the Colonel to the man in front of him.

Suffice to say, Hughes was Not Happy with what he'd found from his younger cohort.

Ed wasn't used to the man being silent. It was more unnerving the constant barrage of pictures or declarations of affection to his wife and daughter.

He was still, too. Staring down at his glass of whiskey like it was the cause of all this trouble. Ed was, frankly, glad he didn't know what was going on in the man's head.

"Well, at least I know what it is he keeps seeing," Maes finally answered, taking one last swig. "Stupid bastard... He probably thought he was protecting me by keeping me out of the loop. Maybe he did. Whatever Gran is up to is so classified I doubt the entire investigation department would be able to dig it up- at least, not without getting dug under themselves." He frowned again. "I should have realized it was bad when I caught him..." Hughes grimaced, and rubbed his jaw. Ed perked up.

"What haven't you told me?" he demanded, hands smacking on the couch he sat on.

That evening, immediately after his match with Mustang, Ed arrived at Hughes' barracks intent on fulfilling his part of the deal. Hughes had, in turn, invited him in and poured some whiskey, offering tea to his younger guest.

"Right after he came back from Ishbal, I came to pry him out of his dorm, and found the entire apartment covered in transmutation circles. I didn't know what I was seeing, but he told me it was a taboo." Maes lifted his fingers, ticking off points. "There are two things I know are forbidden to state alchemists. Never make gold, and never make humans. Considering Roy doesn't give a shit about gold, I could deduce what it was."

Ed looked down at his mug of tea.

"He was afraid to take his own life and wanted to be useful, Ed. So he decided he would try and bring back two people. So, I did the only thing I could."

Ed lifted his head to blink bright golden eyes at Maes.

"Bitch slapped him into submission."

"You're serious?" Ed gaped, starting to snicker. Oh, he understood the implications of what Mustang would have done far better than anyone... but he well remembered the look on Mustang's face when he'd fixed his jaw.

"Well, no, I shook him a bit and told him there were easier ways to kill yourself. That's when he decided on something- made a vow."

Maes had already finished his glass, and made to pour another before throwing the tumbler at the wall. It didn't break, but made one hell of a thump.

"Damn it! What the hell is going on here? Ishbal, the prototype stones, using the alchemists- what does it mean? Its got to tie in somehow..." Hughes' face contorted, before pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Well, you keep working on that. Al and I are going out to look for Marco tomorrow," Ed tossed out, curious as how he'd react.

To his surprise, Hughes smiled a little. "It might a good idea. You don't need to be here when whatever happens, happens." He turned grim.

"I really don't want you here when I really _do_ bitchslap Roy." Maes face creased, taking his glasses off to rub at his eyes this time. "Dammit."

* * *

The kitten didn't really mind that it had been left again. It would miss the cold one, who gave it food and milk. It would miss the one with the warm hand who would pet it when no one was looking. Yet being left was something it had, sadly, gotten used to.

It was also getting cold. The warm-handed-one had made it a nest, but when night fell, it was still a cold place without someone to cuddle with.

No food, either. It would have to go hunt soon or try to sleep.

The kitten then noticed a dark shadow approaching, somewhere near. It was picked up, making it yowl in surprise, held by the scruff of its neck.

"Cat, huh?"

The kitten found itself tucked into the crook of a human elbow. It looked up, noting the dark-sky-colors and the human face. It also noted the smell of burning things.

"Equivalent exchange, I guess," the human went on, even though the kitty didn't understand the words. There were others, and a loud sigh, but the kitten didn't care. It was quickly tucked under the night-colored coat, and very warm.

Kitty was happy.

* * *

Ed stretched out, swaying slightly with the train as it rumbled along. Kicking his feet up, he propped them against the bench arm and leaned back to stare blankly upwards.

His thoughts about what had happened in the past few days had spun through his head like a rock tumbler, becoming smooth and shiny from the handling.

"I am not worried about him."

"No, you're not, Brother," Al answered, sitting across from him. He had been the captive audience for all of Ed's nods, denials, random arm movements and voiceless ranting.

"He can handle himself. I don't owe him anything."

Al nearly commented, but didn't, on how they probably did.

"He is _not_ getting us out of East City because it might be dangerous and he wants to protect us."

Al sighed noisily. Ed was an entire debate in himself.

"This is the best lead we've had on the stone in years, and I am not going to waste it because I saw Gran giving Mustang a pervy look."

Al started- he would have objected to leaving if he'd know about that.

"I am _not_ worried about him!"

Al grunted.

"Am I?"

Al had finally had enough. "Yes, you are worried about him. You are worried he's going to elope with Hughes and leave you alone like all the other girls in East City."

"He would not elope with Hughes!" Ed snarled, finally sitting up and shooting daggers. "Hughes is straighter than a pencil!"

Al would have smirked if he had lips. Wait for it...

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE'D BE MISTAKEN FOR A LOVESICK GIRL?

Ah, Ed... Al knew he would never let him down.

"Certainly not you, Brother," Al murmured, trying not to laugh. "But you're acting like one."

Ed whirled, turning away, and Al paused. This was new.

"Brother... is there something you want to tell me?"

Ed huffed and squirmed.

"Well, if it makes you feel better, I've known you were gay ever since you groped Psiren and did nothing at all."

Ed turned, eyes wide, to stare at Al in shock. "Say _what_?"

"You touched the boobs of a gorgeous woman who was obviously coming on to you and acted like she was a chimera. You weren't even _embarrassed_, touching that!" Al's words were all exaggerated patience.

Then there's this stuff about Mustang and you're all worried and I saw you making cow eyes at him yesterday!"

Ed sputtered. "I am not gay!"

"Brother, haven't you ever thought about Winry? What she would grow up to look like?" Al had not considered that his brother would be in denial.

"That macho chick?"

"Haven't you ever looked at a girl?"

"Sure I've looked at girls!"

"I mean like, you know, sex objects!"

Ed couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his little brother's non-existent mouth. Ed, having a mouth, was not able to use it.

"What do you think about when you jack off then?"

His older brother was turning a beautiful shade of puce.

"I am not having this conversation with my baby brother!"

"Hey, I'm only younger than you are by a year!"

"I still don't need to be hearing this from _you_!"

"Why not? I'm your only family and the only person you could talk to," Al asked, frustrated as a piece of metal with a soul could be..

Ed looked away, crossing his arms. "I am _not _gay."

"But do you like the Colonel?"

Al would have loved to know what was going through his brother's mind right then. Yet knowing Edward as he did, he could make an educated guess.

A gut reaction of "Fucking bastard!" then guilt because he had proof Mustang wasn't Pure Evil Sent By God to Piss Him Off. There would be anger that the man would dare want to protect them, then more guilt because a part of him that refused to see the light of day liked the idea. Then sheer rage that Al had found him staring and then he would ponder the man, going back over his memories, and he would finally...

"I hate that bastard and I don't care what Gran does to him! We're going to find Marco and _that is final!_"

Al counted the steps as Ed stomped to the train lavatory- and snickered. He guessed Ed would be there for a while... Considering he knew exactly how long it had been since Ed had actually relieved any 'tension'. Thinking long and hard about the Colonel in that vein should clear a few things up...

He would have smiled. Al knew his brother denied himself, for Al's sake.

Edward didn't realize, that Al wanted him to feel for them both.

* * *

_Stomp, stomp. Stompstompstomp._

Ed couldn't believe his brother- he had-

He'd made him think about the bastard that way, dammit! He hadn't wanted to! He hadn't wanted to think about how much he'd enjoyed their fight. He didn't want to think about how fucking _pretty_ Mustang was- not pretty in a frufru kind of way but sleek like a big cat and always lazy power and graceful and how he knew just how to push his buttons and-

Sexy fucking bastard! It wasn't fair that he had half of East City mooning, how had he managed to get Ed doing it to? He didn't see this coming! He had to find the Stone, he had to get his brother back inside a body so he could go marry Winry and have sweet gear-crazy babies!

Popping the button of his pants, he shoved the leather down around his knees, not looking as he grabbed soap to slick his hand.

Mustang had smelled like sweat and ash, and like himself. His desk had smelled like his cologne, something kind of woodsy. Ed hadn't paid attention, but he remembered it coming off the man when he was holding the ice to his face.

His face had been really smooth, not even snagging on his gloves. Was the rest of him that smooth?

What would the rest of his body feel like?

Ed shivered, his hand moving faster as he thought about kissing- and not on the lips. Would he taste like he smelled?

His eyes closed, trying to imagine Mustang's hand on him, shivering violently when that thought finally sent him over the edge.

The pleasure from the orgasm waned a few moments later, a momentary relief from the hormones that overloaded a teenage body. It left him relaxed, maybe able to sleep...

And he looked at his hand, worrying his bottom lip.

It wasn't like it was a new thing- masturbating in a train lavatory. What bothered him was that he had a face and a body to imagine.

Al couldn't fall in love. Couldn't lust, even. Couldn't feel that damn stupid twitch in his gut when someone walked close and his pants got too tight. He could care about a person and want them happy but he was still a canned ten year old boy. No expiration date, no chance of food poisoning, perfectly preserved fillet of soul.

It wasn't fair.

Then again, he had given up on the notion of "fair" a long time ago. It had gone to the same place that his notion of God had.

Washing his hands, cleaning himself up, he straightened his clothes.

They still had to find Marco and the Stone... and maybe distance would stop the stupid thoughts of a certain Colonel's haunted eyes.

To be continued.

A/N: I had to add the part about the kitty. Just had to. I think its obvious who took the kitty but if it's not, I'm sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Departure VII**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Ed and Roy, others mentioned.

Warning: Divergence from episode 13, emo!Roy, written for shit and giggles. Hopefully not too OOC, and if they are, someone please tell me?

A/N: Now for plot, now that we've established that Ed is a normal teenager.

Colonel Roy Mustang sat, elbows on his desk, chin resting against his gloved fists, contemplating something in the middle distance. It was after dark, he could be totally honest with himself. He could admit he was looking at something only he could see.

At one point, the spells had eased off- nearly non-existent. Hughes and Gracia had kept a steady watch, pouring so much glue over the cracks in his spirit that he had held together, almost believing he was a living human being again.

Then he had found a letter; the letter sent by two boys pleading for help finding their father. Not for themselves, but for their mother who missed their father so very much.

It would have been none of his business if it hadn't been for two things. The letter was asking for Hohenhiem of Light- possibly the most wanted and legendary alchemist of their time. Another was the return address.

The Rockbells had told Roy _so much_ about Risembool. How the sky went on forever and the air was sweet with flowers. That it was green, so different from the harshness of the desert. There was a house and a family business in automail- Mom could give you a good deal if you ever needed one. Oh yes- our daughter is going to be turning eight soon! Isn't she beautiful? She takes so much after her mother...

Even now, after all these years, shaking off their memory was hard. He knew he had to stop before the final one paraded through.

Going to Risembool was something he owed those two doctors. To somehow apologize, on his knees, to the little girl who deserved to hold the gun that did him in.

The dreams had started again once he had made the decision to leave.

The spells had started back when he had seen what was inside that house.

He had barely made himself follow the trail of blood to the house- where the sign of Rockbell decorated the door. Part of him had wondered what would have happened if he'd lost his nerve and walked away.

Inside he found two things: two boys, and an opportunity.

Two broken children who needed a direction and a purpose, because what they had attempted had so obviously failed. He could give them that purpose, and make use of their talents. Talents they had to have- most would have died after a rebound like that.

He could guide them on their path, and he could keep them out of the clutches of the ones who would use them. Like he had been used, an idealistic man wanting to do his best for his country.

Using them for their good. He was turning more and more into his superiors that he wanted to be sick.

Roy looked down, at his hands.

They weren't covered in blood, but he could smell it, the cooked smell of burned flesh, feel the lipids around his mouth from where he'd blown up another town. His mouth was dry from the desert heat even if the night was bone-chillingly cold.

There was a gun in his hand- his ignition gloves were covered in powder residue, but he was in his office.

His heart tried to escape his chest via his throat.

Standing slowly, he edged around his desk, glancing down then looking away in denial.

Fullmetal was there, in a pool of his own blood. The shot had barely missed the automail, going through his shoulder. Al was lying there too- though how a suit of armor could be covered in blood-

"Colonel?"

That was impossible, he knew there was no body in that suit of armor but he had to look anyway, and he walked over and-

"Colonel!"

"First Lieutenant?" he asked, jerking upwards.

He was kneeling in front of one of his couches, hand reaching out to... He had no idea.

"Are you all right, sir?" she asked, cautiously. She had never seen him in the middle of an episode before.

He nodded, wiping sweat from his face with weak fingers. His back popped as he stood. There were no bodies. There was no blood. How could there be? Ed and Al were on their way to see the Crystal Alchemist, and hopefully away from whatever Gran had planned.

"I'll be fine," he answered, in absolute truth. He would be- just not right now. Hawkeye did not look convinced.

"Are you sure you should have let those boys go? You know your judgement is clouded when it comes to them."

Mustang rubbed his nose. She just _had_ to point that out.

"Hughes has his people on it- people he trusts. Not only that, Armstrong is watching their back."

Riza hid her flinch. "Colonel, you know that man is as conspicuous as an elephant among fish. He is too..." She left the sentence hanging. Roy smiled a bit.

"And there is no one that Gran is likely to dismiss more."

Hawkeye's face relaxed as she caught his meaning. They were silent a few moments.

"Do you know what Gran is planning?"

Mustang shook his head, letting a sigh shrug his shoulders. "I have an idea." He twisted, turning to look out his office window, and frowned when he saw several dark cars park before the entrance.

"And I don't think we'll have that long to wait."

* * *

"Marco? Don't you mean Marou? Yeah, he's the guy that treated my leg when it got caught under the mower! I was afraid I was a goner!"

At first, they had been afraid it was the wrong person.

"Dr. Marco? The only doctor around here is Dr. Marou. Maybe someone gave you the wrong name?"

They started to figure out the alias by the fifth time.

"Dr. Marou? Good man, he treats people who can't pay him and that other doctors give up on!"

Ed wondered, privately, if the man was trying for sainthood. Though it didn't make sense if the man was trying to be inconspicuous.

"There was this red flash of light!"

That was the best thing he had heard all day.

The small town reminded him somewhat of Risembool, a good place to sit and forget your troubles. Particularly with a large glass of lemonade.

"This is where they said he lives?" Al asked, as they approached an unobtrusive stone house.

"Yup. They all said it was the house on this hill. I hope he's in."

It had taken Ed a while to notice the mountain of a man following them, but eventually he did. He promptly pulled Al into a haystack. The man looked hopeless, gazing for them- but Ed had seen the silver watch, and had recognized him from coming with Hughes and the Fuhrer.

"Maybe we can lose him?" Al had whispered, before they made a run from the house. The man didn't seem to be in sight.

* * *

Ed was rapidly revising his wish for Marco to be in when he found himself face to face with a rusted pistol.

"Uh..."

"Dr. Marco?" Al said weakly, "We're here to talk to you..."

"I won't go back!" the man in the door yelled. He held a gun like he had never seen one before in his life. "I can't go back! I won't- not to the experiments, not to any of it! I refuse! You'll have to kill me!"

There was a brief silence as they digested his words, his stance, the sweat dripping down his face.

"Its all right, Dr. Marco," Al said, getting between his brother and the gun.

Ed actually thought of something intelligent to say. "Mustang sent us."

Marco's arms slacked, eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Colonel Bastard told me to get the story from you. What's so bad about the Philosopher's Stone?" Ed stepped around his brother, walking closer. "My brother and I have been searching for it for years. We need to know why."

Marco blinked, then looked at Al, then at Ed, and Al again.

"I get it. You're him, right? The Fullmetal Alchemist."

"No, you see-"

Ed tried to hold down his spastic twitches. Don't kill the old geezer, he told himself. Don't kill the old geezer.

* * *

Marco calmed down enough to let Ed and Al in, his expression resigned. It made Ed sick.

"Listen, I know what happened in Ishbal. You used prototype Stones and killed a lot of people. Mustang told me."

Marco's eyebrow's went up. Ed guessed he hadn't expected him to be so blunt, but Ed was tired of waiting. He had been waiting three years.

"Ishbal was just one chapter, but its all Mustang knows about. Thank god. Even I don't know all the details about the war- other than what we were ordered to do."

Marco looked down at his folded hands. "There is nothing I can do to make up for what I've done. Even killing myself- that wouldn't even begin to pay back my debt.'

Ed narrowed his eyes. "I don't want to hear your whining about your debts. Tell me what happened, Marco. I didn't come out here to hurt you or betray you or anything- Mustang wouldn't have told me if he thought I would. I know what Basque Gran ordered him to do. I know that there is an evil presence in the military. I don't want them to get the Stone any more than you do. If its as bad as you say..."

He hadn't realized until this moment that this was the course he would take. If it was as bad as Marco said, then he would find another way. He could never give up on finding a cure for his brother- but he knew, deep down, that some prices just couldn't be paid.

"I'll try to find another way."

Al shifted, behind him, though he thought he felt approval radiating off the armor.

Marco smiled just a bit. "Its not worth it, you know. For everything you get, you have to give. And maybe give more than you ever wanted. The Philosopher's Stone has been investigated by the State for years. I can't tell you all the reasons. As a weapon, as a cure for illness, and as a way to prevent other countries from attacking us. In the name of science, we did unspeakable things. Human transmutation was just one of them."

Ed felt as if he'd eaten shrapnel.

"My research isn't here- its all in the First Branch library. So don't ask about that." Marco absently rubbed the back of his neck. "I headed the research for a while. But, you wanted the truth. You may not be able to handle it all, but here is the truth of the Philosopher's Stone."

Holding his breath seemed childish, until he realized his lungs were burning. With a faint gasp, Ed tried to brace himself.

"To make the Philosopher's Stone, it takes lives. Not just one or two, either. It takes hundreds- if not thousands. We had slain hundreds to get the prototype we used during the war. A race of people, or a city-state, might be enough to make the perfect finished product."

Silence. Ed thought the sound of birds twittering outside the window seemed completely unreal. Surely, after such a pronouncement, the world had to have noticed. Instead the birds were singing, the wind was blowing and cows were lowing to be milked. Didn't they care that something so horrible had happened? That all of their hopes had been... stopped?

"Dr. Marco- surely you must be-"

"There is no mistake, Edward, Alphonse," Marco said softly, looking up at them. His eyes were haunted as Mustang's- but worse. Here was a man who believed he was beyond hope or redemption. "That is exactly what it takes, to make a Philosopher's Stone."

Ed shuddered, running his hand over his face. Hope hated to die. "Can we see it? Can we try to find out what went wrong, why it takes that to make it successful?"

"Then what, when you find out you can do nothing else? Give up? Or will you be lured in to what the Military promises? Will you let yourself be turned into-"

"I never sold my soul to them," Ed countered, standing up. "My soul is mine, right here." He pointed to his chest- and then at the boy with him. "So let me see if I can fix whatever is wrong with it!"

"No, Ed-"

Getting up, Ed started to feverishly search the room- finally noticing the false wall. Clapping his hands, he opened it, barely noticing Marco's soft gasp.

"Alchemy without circles?"

"Brother, maybe we should-"

"I have to see it, Al! I have to _know._"

A small red vial sat innocently in a medicine bag. "Red water? No... its so much clearer..."

He picked it up with his false hand, eying the clear glass, and the clear red fluid in it.

"Ed, you should put it down. You can't do anything with it," Al protested, trying to take it from him. The blond didn't answer, still staring, before turning to Marco.

"What is this, exactly? Others had pieces of it- like that fake preacher in Lior."

"It's a scrap of the unfinished stone material," the older gentleman said, warily. "There is... much more... back in that place."

"That place?" Ed vaguely recalled Mustang mentioning "that place". "Where they do the research?"

Marco nodded, running his hands through his hair in a harried gesture. "Where they... do the research. Not just on the Stone, but on chimeras... and humans."

Ed chewed his bottom lip. Here was the potential answer to all his hopes...

"Ed, let it go," Al whispered, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We'll find another way."

Shuddering, his fingers twitched, unfeeling- and the bottle dropped from his metal fingers. It shattered- and the red material curled up on itself, into a small clear lump of red.

"Eh?"

"The Celestial Stone," a voice quoted from the doorway, and everyone turned to see.

"The Sage's Stone, the Red Tincture, the Crimson Elixir, the Fifth Element... Its not going to be content with just one shape, Fullmetal boy."

A woman, inky hair dripping over a deathly pale face stood in the doorway, with a mocking smile.

"Long time no see- to all of you," she murmured, eyeing Marco like a desert. "I see you didn't run far enough, Doctor."

"NO! I'm not going back! I'm too stained! I can't!"

Ed didn't move- instead staring at woman. "You know her? She-"

"She's one of them! We have to get out of here! I can't go back!" his voice rose hysterically. That made the decision for him.

"Al!" he ordered, turning to the far wall and clapping his hands. He knew his brother would grab the other man, who had snatched his pistol. Before he could fire there was a new back door for them to escape through- which they used, running down the hill.

"Its no use, they know now! They're going to come after us and take us there!" Marco's eyes were wide and his face covered in sweat. Ed and Al exchanged a look- but the woman who was after them was already leaping out the door to give chase.

"The train station?"

"We have to lose her first!"

"Then what? Back to East City?"

"Yeah, Mustang might be able to-"

"Right-"

"Okay! Now let's get the fuck-"

The town was growing up around them as they ran- and they all, as a group, slammed bodily into someone.

He was tall, Ed noted. Of course, most people- were, ah, older than he was.

Even running for his life he couldn't say the "s" word.

White hair, a scar poorly concealed behind shades... "Hey, I know you don't I?"

The man gave them all a wolfish smile. "Fullmetal Alchemist Edward Elric." His gaze shifted the frightened man in Al's arms. "Crimson Alchemist Marco. God smiles on me this day..."

"What _the_ fuck?"

"I appreciate you slowing them down for me, Scarred Man," that sultry voice cut in, again. "But I'm afraid I can't allow you to harm them quite yet."

Ed, Al, and Marco suddenly knew what a cornered mouse felt like. There were two hungry cats looking at them- and Ed had a wonderful idea.

"Hey- look at the time! We've got to go see you!" he babbled. "You'll have to fight each other for us! See you all later!"

The Scarred Man didn't seem to care- he was staring at the dark woman in shocked surprise.

"You..?"

After that, Ed didn't really care.

* * *

The train was about to leave when they hit the station- something they were profoundly happy about. If it was leaving now, then those two couldn't catch up to them until later. They could figure out the why, then, too.

The dash for the train was something Ed and Al both exceeded at- and when they were on board, the silver pocket watch got them seats.

"You think... we lost them?" Al muttered, as they looked around for their pursuers. Ed didn't know why, but he expected them to suddenly materialize on the train. After all, they had seemed to appear out of thin air anyways.

"Yeah... unless they can outrun a train, which I don't think they can."

Marco had calmed down considerably- the idea of two youngsters protecting him seemed to have helped his nerves considerably.

All three (even Al, who didn't have lungs) breathed a sigh of relief.

There was silence again, as the train chugged along.

"Think Mustang will have an idea of what's going on?" Ed asked, murmuring quietly at Al.

"I hope-"

Al stopped. Ed looked up at him, who was staring at the man in the row next to them.

"Excuse me, sir," the large boy in armor said, gently plucking the newspaper from the man's fingers. He didn't say anything because when someone that much bigger than you asks for something... you generally give it.

The front page, in ugly black and gray, stated boldly:

**FLAME ALCHEMIST ROY MUSTANG**

**EXECUTED AFTER ADMITTING TO HUMAN TRANSMUTATION**

To be continued.

A/N: No, he ain't dead.


	8. Chapter 8

**Departure VIII**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction whatsoever.

Pairing: Roy and Ed, others mentioned.

Warnings: Shonen-ai, divergence from episode 13, emo!Roy, and possible OOC.

A/N: Whee... more plot... And there is a reason I tossed in Scar and Lust at the last minute. Really. Scar just needed to be in the area and Lust had to chase Marco.

Colonel Roy Mustang sat on the edge of his desk, waiting, arms folded across his chest.

"You don't have to be here," he said quietly to his companion.

"I want to be here, sir. You need a witness."

Roy found himself smiling at his right hand woman. What a typical thing for Riza to say.

"I do, but it doesn't need to be you. It might be better if it wasn't, in fact."

He knew Riza wouldn't buy it. She never did.

"Someone needs to protect you, sir."

"You can't protect me from this," he said, with gentle frankness. "A gun will have about the same effect as a boiled egg."

"Despite that-"

The door to the office slammed open, and Mustang's jaw tightened, eyes narrowed as he saw Brigadier General Gran's smug face.

"Good evening, Colonel Mustang."

* * *

Ed took the newspaper, hands trembling slightly as he scanned the front article. 

"One week ago, the Military Investigations Department and the Department of Alchemy came together, under the direction of Brigadier General Basque Gran, to level charges against one Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang, of committing illegal human transmutation."

_"Nice to see you too, Brigadier General," Mustang answered, smiling urbanely. "What brings you to my office so late at night?"_

_"Blood on the wind, Colonel. It has been brought to my attention that you are harboring two young criminals."_

_"Whatever do you mean, Gran?"_

"Colonel Mustang, once hailed a hero during the Eastern Rebellion, did not bother to deny these charges, confessing freely to the accusation. The charges leveled against him was one count of human transmutation, and two counts of abusing minors."

_"The Elric brothers, in an attempt to revive their mother four years ago, performed human transmutation. As you well know_."

_Mustang's expression didn't change. _

_"I have come to arrest them, unless... you have a better explanation for being in Risembool four years ago, Colonel."_

"It was discovered that four years ago, then Lieutenant Colonel Mustang went to the town of Risembool searching for a place where he could conduct his illegal experiments in secret. There..." Ed had to stop. Al took the paper from him, gently pulling it from his fingers.

"There, he used the then eleven year old Edward Elric, and ten year old Alphonse Elric, as components for his experiments, maiming them both."

_"So in return for my confession, you'll leave the Elric brothers alone?" Mustang demanded, eyes narrowed. _

_Gran nodded, smirking behind his gracious gesture. _

_"And my staff?"_

_"They will, of course, be cleared of all possible charges, as you had left your command post."_

_Mustang's smile was bitter. "And reassigned, where?"_

_"That will be the Fuhrer's decision, not mine." Gran's smirk deepened, reaching out to grab Mustang's chin. "I'm just happy he gave you to me. I've been wanting to break that spirit of yours, completely, for a long time... And believe me, by the time I'm done with you, you will be broken."_

_The Colonel's eyes flickered, before giving the man a shit eating smile. _

_"Too late." Maybe Gran could scatter the pieces, but he had been shattered long ago._

_"Those boys beat you to it."_

"Human transmutation is a capital offense. As such... yesterday, at noon, Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang's sentence was carried out: death by firing squad."

Ed's body went limp as Al's voice droned on.

"Mustang had no surviving relatives, and his memorial service will be held at the home of Lt. Colonel Maes Hughes..."

Al could have been reporting on the weather for all Ed heard him. Marco could have been a wax figurine. No one else was on the train but Ed, sitting there with his face in his hands.

The moment stretched, empty of thought. He could feel the wind tugging at his braid, the rumble of the train through his human foot and how it vibrated up the metal one.He felt completely numb- like his entire body had been replaced by automail. It had been like that when his mother had died, and he dimly recalled feeling similarly when his father had walked out the door for the last time.

The memories were all he had left. Memories of Mustang provoking him, that damn smug smirk, the stupid jokes... The brief glimpse of Mustang's face, that night as Edward lay there in bed after the failed transmutation, bandaged and bleeding. Little things stuck out; a bit of remorse when Roy didn't think he was looking, or being contentious of Al whenever he went on a mission. The spark of life there, whenever he and Ed crossed verbal sabers.

Then those haunted eyes... and the fact that Ed had _left_ him there. He knew Gran was a bastard, and that Mustang had made himself a target.

"I... Mustang- he could take care of himself, couldn't he?" Ed asked, looking up at Al, then Marco. "I always thought he could. He nearly beat _me_- how could he let himself get killed for something... He didn't do?"

"He was covering for us, Brother," Al whispered. "He had to have known what he was doing."

"He said he would go on protecting us while he could." Ed pulled his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. "Damn bastard. Fucking bastard! How could you go and die on _me_, you-"

Marco, who had been listening in but not saying anything, blinked and furrowed his eyebrows at Ed. A moment later, his eyebrow went up, a strange half smile curling up the corner of his mouth.

Ed was aware that Al had put his empty hand on his shoulder, and of his own dry eyes and the contortions of his face. He had never known what to feel on the inside about Mustang. Now he never would.

"How can I hate him when..." He stopped, his jaw muscles rippling under his skin. "I don't want to hate him now."

Al patted him. "Brother..."

"He was an ass! I hated him! He-" Ed drooped further, twisting away from Al and Marco to look out the window. "He protected us."

"Let me interrupt this moment of teenage angst by bringing up a major point you haven't considered," Marco interrupted, a physical derailment of Ed's thoughts. It was so physical his head slipped out of his hands, banging against the back of the train bench.

"Ow! Shit!"

Marco gave him a tolerantly amused smile. Apparently, since Ed and Al weren't going to turn him into Those People at That Place, he had decided to trust them.

"I knew Mustang as a field Major. I doubt he would have used two children for human transmutation." He dropped his voice so that is was barely audible over the sound of the rumble of the rails. "So what happened in the paper was either a complete fabrication, or a careful editing of the facts. Which was it?"

Ed and Al looked at each other, than down at their hands, but hanging their heads in shame.

The story was, as always, halted and painful, but Marco's expression was calm, not condemning.

"And Mustang found you afterwards?"

Al nodded this time, and took up the thread. "I'd gotten Brother to Auntie Pinako's, and Brother had been unconscious for a while. Mustang came in later, with a letter that we had sent trying to find out father..."

Marco's lips parted, eyes widening before closing his mouth and shaking his head. "And he had nothing to do with what happened that night?"

"No," the two brother said, shamefaced, at the same time.

"But they probably knew that Mustang knew," Marco murmured, sighing and shrinking on himself. "Or they just now figured it out." He rubbed his chin.

"I don't think they killed him," he finally murmured. "They rarely killed people who had potential to be valuable, or who had betrayed them. Not immediately."

He sighed.

"Dr. Marco?" Ed finally asked, as something painful flared in his stomach and throat.

"There is a good possibility that Mustang is mostly alive, Ed," Marco answered.

Ed somehow did not find this comforting.

* * *

First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye sat next to Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc as they watched the so-called mourners fraternize throughout Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes home. 

They ate some of Gracia's delicious pie, they paraded across the floor, stomped through the garden... and their every step was a victory dance.

Riza inhaled, closing her eyes, and fought back the heat in over her temples and the murderous intent in her blood. They were being watched. They all knew it- ever since Mustang had given himself up-

The stoic woman's shoulders hunched, losing enough control to bite her bottom lip.

_"Those boys beat you to it."_

_Riza stared at the look of petulance - like a spoiled child that had lost a sweet- steal over Gran's face, a moment before the satisfied smile registered on Mustang's._

_She was still for half a second before Gran backhanded Mustang into the floor._

_She then acted on instinct- drawing her gun and leveling at the Brigadier General before he could use his alchemy and Mustang, sprawled on the floor, shouted an order._

"Stand down!"

_Shock was what made her follow that order. That, or temporary insanity. Under any other circumstances, she would have shot a bloody path out of there for him. Hell, under normal circumstances she wouldn't have had to. The Colonel would have made the entire room explode._

_But instead, he was lying there, letting the MP's run in and roughly haul him to his feet before giving a pat down for his gloves._

"Stand down,_" he had said again. Riza wondered why he was speaking in Ishbalan. "Don't do anything stupid." He smiled without humor, before coughing and spitting out blood and white gravel. "That's an order. The last one I can give you. _Wait and don't do anything stupid. _I can't protect you now." _

_His face was turning an dark purple- just when it had started to fully recover from the last time. Anger and surprise fought with orders to hold her still as they jerked him forward into walking. _

_"Those boys do cloud my judgement." She hated the sound of those words. "You were right."_

It was more of a qualified surrender than a memorial service. All of Mustang's enemies were armed with their dress uniforms, full of regalia and pageantry. They positively sparkled, despite the black sashes and armbands. All of their faces were properly somber, but Riza could see the bared teeth behind the condolences.

Perhaps even worse were the people who didn't know any better. People from Central who had come because they were either press, or soldiers who had known _of_ Mustang, but not actually _known_ him.

"It must have been terrible for you, working under such a man."

"I'm glad he was finally brought to justice."

"Shouldn't you be happy? You have a chance to be promoted away, to some place where you can shine."

"Maybe this is for the best."

Fools, all of them.

The last group, the ones who knew the truth, were the members of his staff and the Hughes' family. They were the only ones dressed in civilian clothes. They were the only ones who actually cried when no one was looking or gathered solemnly on couches to sip whiskey and try to remember the real man.

They remembered who he really was. Not a war hero but a lazy ass who wanted to change the military for the better.

Shit.

Riza stood, walking briskly to Hughes' second floor bathroom so she could dab her eyes in private. She had promised herself not to cry but...

The door closed silently behind her, and she turned the rattled the lock, before reaching for her handkerchief. The toilet bowl provided a seat, which she took, staring downwards into the soothing gloom. It smelled like potpourri- a bit too much cinnamon and a fake apple tang. It was entirely too cheerful for her mood.

Riza Hawkeye did not cry out of sadness. That was handled with stoicism and the shooting range. Riza cried when she was enraged... Because otherwise there would be a trail of bodies behind her.

"First Lieutenant?" a voice called from the door. Riza winced. She must have been in there longer than she realized.

"Lt. Colonel? I'll be right out."

She got to her feet, withholding a sigh when circulation reestablished itself in her legs. Her eyes flickered to the too bright window, and the ridiculously fluffy curtains.

Her jaw dropped when a golden head suddenly popped into view, two gloved hands holding on to the ledge.

"Edward?"

He smiled, tightly, eyes going wide when he started to lose his grip. Then he was shoved _upwards_, and Riza felt a smile twitch over her face. The first in days, if not weeks. Al was holding his brother in the air. Said brother was knocking on the window, and Riza took that as a sign to open it.

"Fullmetal? What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? What _am I doing here?_ I have a right to come to the bastard's funeral _too _you know!"

"Brother, she meant why are you trying to break into the bathroom!"

Somehow, Al sounded strained, even if he lacked muscles to overtax. Riza's smile became a tad wider.

"Don't do that, its scary!" Ed yelped. What? Oh, the smile. It must have surprised him.

"Indeed... if you needed to use the facility, you could have come in the front door. Why are you here?"

"Oh yeah, that- here, get all the people who know what really happened to Mustang and meet us here tonight." He slipped her some paper, which fluttered to the bathroom floor. "We have to decide what to do," the young man continued, before turning to Al. "Yeah, yeah, I'm done! We can get out of here now! No- we don't have to hit other people! Yes I know there was a guard but he was in my way and he won't remember anything!"

Laughter tried to well up inside her- and Riza would have let it, if she had been anyone else.

For some reason, she now had the totally inexplicable and painful hope that everything would be all right.

* * *

The room was too fucking bright. 

Those were Mustang's thoughts as they tried to pick themselves out of the thick mud in his mind, but he wasn't having much luck. About the only thought he could find was just that... it was too fucking bright.

Observations filtered down a little later through his eyes and brain like so many snapshots.

It was too fucking bright where he was. There was darkness beyond that. The entire place smelled like sulfur and ozone, overlaying a disturbingly disinfectant scent that he remembered vaguely from hospitals.

His body was a giant bruise, tender and aching. It had to have been a long time since he had been knocked out- his mouth was so dry it was nearly glued shut. He tried to twitch his arms. That proved useless. They were spread eagle and bound. Trying his legs found they were much the same.

The former Colonel's mind began to clear, and wondered about that. They apparently did not want him drugged for whatever it was that came next. In fact, they probably wanted him scared out of his damn mind, which was the reason for letting him come around on his own.

He closed his eyes against the fucking brightness, but it was no true relief. He knew there would be no mercy.

Not that he deserved any.

He was so scared he wanted to piss himself.

It was a very frail moment, but he also knew he had done the right thing. His people, for the moment, were safe. It had been his decision to do this, and he would live with those consequences.

Those boys, at least, were safe. Ed was safe.

He almost smiled, imagining Ed getting so pissed at him for all of this. The flailing and the screaming- all of it. Maybe the kid would make more ice for him.

That had been a shock, he recalled. That Ed had seen, Ed had known- and Ed hadn't put down the old dog. He had actually been concerned... and that had been so touching it was painful. It had been sick and wrong of him to confess to the kid. But then, that kid wouldn't have left him alone until he had heard most of the story.

He was turning Roy sentimental, dammit.

Of course, thinking about Ed was better than thinking about this place. For those two boys, he could do a lot. For those two boys... They had broken him.

Yet if a broken bone healed wrong, you had to break it again to put it right. Too bad that was a moot point now.

He had been there long enough that his body had started to protest. Not only was he thirsty, his stomach was collapsing on itself and his extremities were numb.

Predictably, this was when Mustang heard a door open beyond the ring of light that encompassed his world.

"Hello..."

Two dark shapes, both huge, lumbered towards him from beyond the fucking brightness. One was hatefully familiar. Basque Gran was giving him a genuine smile- one of joy. Not at seeing Roy, but at his situation. The other...

It was a gross parody of a human- a face he had not seen in three years since he had dropped the Elric boys off at his home. Shou Tucker had become the same kind of pitiful creature as his daughter- a chimera. Yet he was smiling as well- upside down and wrong like the rest of him.

"Long time no see, Colonel."

Damn...

"I'm sure you are wondering what we have in mind for you, Roy Mustang." The Iron Blood Alchemist chuckled. "Let me put your worries to rest. You are going to be used for our experiments." The powerful man patted his arm, like he was a horse or a dog. "We can find a lot of uses for a lovely specimen like you."

Dimly in the background, Roy thought he could hear the scream of a large cat, and he tried to will away the tremors down his spine.

He failed.

"You are too talented for us to let go of completely. No one else has quite mastered your technique at Alchemy, either. It would be a shame to waste it. So you will get to live. Just... different."

"Made better," Tucker chimed in, eyes gleaming madly.

"Of course, Doctor." Gran chuckled. "However... for even that, we really don't need your mind." Basque Gran walked to the other side of the room, and Tucker did the same. The lights dimmed, and Roy noticed for the first time that he was lying inside a large array. His eyes followed the diagram, the loops and whorls... Its design was for breaking things only.

"A human being is made of three parts. A body, a mind, and a soul. As you know, the mind is what connects the soul and the body. Do you want to see what happens when we de-construct just the mind, Mustang?"

The lights cut out- a moment before the array seared to life, flickering and hungry and consuming him. Mustang shot one terrified look at his tormentors, before closing his eyes to shut out their smiles.

"I know I do."

To be continued.


	9. Chapter 9

**Departure IX**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Roy and Ed, others mentioned

Warnings: Shonen-ai, divergence from ep. 13, possible OOC, weirdness starting

A/N: I feel the need to confess that this story was originally meant to begin in Ishbal. I may write that part out someday. I even started the series of letters that Roy and Hughes wrote each other as an outline of what happened. The first chapter would have been Hughes saying goodbye to Roy on the train the day after Roy confessed he loved Hughes and was sent off to war. Hence, the title: "Departure". The first chapter I wrote was actually an attempt to get down the more lively parts of the story before I forgot them.

As you can tell, the first parts never were written and now I'm on chapter nine of a Roy/Ed story that is going off on a tangent that kinda surprised me.

Sort of. I'm not sure where its heading anymore. Hopefully to a conclusion.

Edward paced, his boots kicking up dust and cobwebs from the filthy floor of the place he had chosen to meet with the rest of Mustang's command staff. It was one of the few places he knew would be quiet and probably deserted, at least in Central, and that the peanut gallery would be able to recognize without him out and out saying where it was in the note.

Not that he really wanted to be there. It was shadowed with disturbing memories and terror from that night, when he had inadvertently caught Barry the Chopper.

The warehouse he had used had long since gone out of business- too many people were afraid of the meat they had bought and the stigma of a serial killer meant that no one wanted to buy the building, either.

It was, however, still a wonderful place to stomp.

"What do you think is taking them so long?" Ed asked, agitated and snappish. The other two occupants of the warehouse looked at each other and sighed. It was the fourth time in the past fifteen minutes Ed had brought that up.

"We're not going to be able to help him if we get killed ourselves, Brother," Al added, rubbed the back of his helmet. "Besides, we also need to find out everything about That Place. They have information on the Philosopher's Stone as well... and..."

"And who knows what they're doing to him?" Ed's voice grated on his own ears. His hands shook as he spoke, not looking at the doctor or his brother. "How many people have we not been able to save?"

Al didn't answer, but Marco looked like he might.

"How many people..?

"Ed- you aren't God. Mustang made his choice."

"I didn't want him to!"

"He cared about you, you young idiot. That much is obvious. It's also obvious that you care back even though you want to deny it. Save your guilt complex for when you really are damned."

Ed turned on him, about to snarl, when Al caught him.

"Brother... You really do care about Mustang, don't you?"

"I do not!"

Al would have rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and you haven't been ignoring me when I say something about the Philosopher's Stone, right?"

Ed's face balled up. "He was protecting us, Al."

"Yes, he was." Al patted Ed's back. "And we'll get him back."

Marco's expression was pained. "You two are too much alike. You must either want to kill each other or it was love at first sight."

"It's both," Al answered, facetiously. Edward turned about as red as his coat and tried to dent his brother.

Marco's eyebrows did a steady climb as he noticed that Ed couldn't bring himself to deny it, but at the same acted like this pissed him off beyond reason.

When Ed stomped to the other end of the warehouse, Marco leaned in to Al. "Is this his first crush?"

Al laughed a little sheepishly, noticing the intense red coloring the back of Ed's ears and neck, and nodded. "Brother's always been a little... focused. I didn't think he would realize he hit puberty unless he grew a beard."

Marco knew the situation was horribly grave, and that time really was of the essence... but even in the gloom, knowing that there was something as normal going on as a childish crush... He covered his mouth to hide a smile.

"Its good to know that Roy has someone like Ed worried about him."

Al would have sighed- but Ed was walking back that way, and he wasn't alone this time.

"Yo!"

* * *

When the remains of Eastern Command decided to meet the Elric brothers, they decided to go about it carefully.

Hughes, of course, decided to join them, and it was going to be he and Havoc that entered to speak with the boys. Hawkeye and Falman stayed outside, Hawkeye as a sniper while Falman kept guard. Fury stayed nearby with his listening equipment, eavesdropping on all military chatter. Breda kept the get-away car warm.

They weren't going to take chances, and if whatever Ed had in mind had a snowball's chance in hell of working, they would see it through.

"Yo, Ed!" Hughes called- of course walking in like he didn't have a care in the world. Havoc sighed, gun still in his hand.

They were then approached by a miniature thunder cloud with homicidal intent.

"What the hell kept you?" it roared, changing from a thunder cloud to an attempted earthquake mid stride. Hughes smiled, and shook his head.

"You did a good job my making the place were we're meeting obscure, but all of us are probably being watched."

Ed, now quite human again, turned and gestured for them to follow. The stomping lessened considerably as they headed back to where Al loomed over a smaller, elderly gentleman.

"Yo," Hughes greeted again, waving, and Al waved back cheerfully.

"All right, now explain yourself," Ed began, after they made a brief introduction. "Why are you all being watched, other than on general principles?"

"Come on, Boss. All of us knew that the Colonel wouldn't touch human alchemy. It was one of the stipulations of his surrender. If he confessed to all charges, all of us would be left alone," Havoc cut in, chewing on his cigarette. "That doesn't mean we're going to be ignored. You too."

Ed winced, and looked away. "Tell me what happened."

"Well, only Hawkeye was there when they took him, but we'd seen it coming ever since you left," Havoc started, chewing on his cigarette. "Like a bunch of fucking sharks around blood."

Ed hunched his shoulders, and Hughes sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Its not about you, Ed. Hawkeye said the story they told Mustang was about you two doing human transmutation several years ago, but they could have used any story to catch him. All that mattered was that they had blackmail material. Gran, a lot of the other military brass- they've been trying to get Roy by the balls for years. Mustang's ambition was to become Fuhrer, someday. He was also doing a pretty good job of it until..." Hughes stopped, and gave Ed a wry smile. "Until recently."

Ed rubbed his face. "Figures that the bastard is a power hungry sonuvabitch, too..."

Al and Marco both rolled their eyes, and Hughes bit back a real smile.

"A power-hungry sonuvabitch who happened to give a shit about his people, and the people he killed. That's pretty rare in the military nowadays."

"So, what was it that had you call us out here and risk our necks for a dead man?" Havoc said, tone deceptively cheerful.

* * *

The experiment was humming on the table. It was an absent minded, tuneless sound, one that came from the desire to occupy itself and no real idea how.

In fact, it had no ideas at all.

Gran smiled. "You do good work, Tucker," he purred, reaching out to pet the experiment's black hair. "How long until you know if you were fully successful?"

"Preliminary results indicate that his mind is completely blank," Tucker murmured. "His soul still exists, but it could only be loosely joined to his body at best. That could indicate that his consciousness and memories are still there, but as he has not reacted to words or any other stimuli, I am leaning towards it being completely gone."

"And this... noise?" he asked, indicating the humming.

"I think it might be from the cat we merged him with. He doesn't quite have the capacity to purr, so the remains of the cat mind are trying to do the human equivalent."

Gran chuckled, enjoying the feel of the creature beneath his hand. He had long wanted to see the pretty man broken beneath his heel. Still pretty... but he loved to see things broken and ruined. Destroyed for the sake of destruction. Roy Mustang was nothing so much as a cracked porcelain doll, unable to be repaired.

In his mind, there was nothing more beautiful.

The experiment lay there, still humming softly, in ragged prison clothing and looking almost human. His hair and skin were the same, his muscles just a tad more defined, his bone structure looser. The teeth had been beautiful- savage as any feline's, with hands hooked to mimic claws. The eyes though... still black but the pupils were slit like the feline he was merged with.

Pretty thing...

"Do you think the Fuhrer would let me keep him?" the Brigadier General asked, stroking his thick hair again. "He would make a lovely pet..."

Tucker raised an eyebrow. "It would depend on the reprogramming. Once a new personality is made for him from the broken one, it is... possible..."

Gran continued to stroke Mustang's hair... but he didn't seem to notice. In fact, he didn't seem to be there at all.

* * *

The planning stage to rescue Mustang went well, but it left the soldiers with more than a few things to think about.

"So... what are we going to do if we really do break him out?" Fury asked Hawkeye, as they carefully broke down the equipment they had used to eavesdrop. "I mean... its not like we can really continue with the military after this."

Hawkeye didn't answer him. The eavesdropping equipment was stored away in short order, and Fury looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but didn't. He had learned that doing so shut her up faster than mentioning the Colonel's newest girlfriend.

She helped him carry out the large cases, before she found her voice.

"I think it would be best to put off thinking about that until after we have retrieved the Colonel," she said, calmly. "We have to survive rescuing him, first. Then we can worry about what to do later."

"Ah." Fury didn't look very frightened, but he, like the others, had to know that they were finished as far as the military went. "You're right. We have nothing to lose."

* * *

"So this is Lab 5?" Ed asked, looking at the broken skeleton of a building in front of them. Despite that, it was still one building that was disturbingly well fortified.

Al stood beside him as they gazed at the building. They would be taking the frontal assault, being the distraction and also locating the Colonel if he was still alive. It had been decided that the only visible people needed to be Fullmetal and Al- everyone else would stay in the background.

Ed was fine with that. He didn't want to risk the average people (non alchemists) there... especially when... he shuddered. He didn't want to think the end of that sentence.

"So, brother... do you know why you're doing this?" Al asked, as they approached the barbed wire fence.

"Yeah, to get the Colonel out."

"Why do you want to get the Colonel out?"

"To kick his ass for being a moron thinking he had to protect us!" Ed snapped without hesitating.

Al would have sweated, but that required sweat glands. He did a good impression anyways. "Brother- why do you care? Come on- before we do this, you need to figure out why the hell you're risking your neck and automail."

Ed stopped, and seemed all the smaller, but so much older. "I left him, Al. I saw him hurt and I left him. I could have saved him if I had just stayed."

"That's not a good reason either, Ed," Al murmured, offering his cupped hands to boost Ed to the top of the fence.

"What other reason could there be?"

Al really wished his brother wasn't as dense as he acted. "Brother, you _like _him!"

"This isn't the time or place, Al!" Ed shot back, unwinding the fence to use as a rope for Al to pull himself up.

"Yes, it is. Because once you have Mustang out, you will have to decide what to do with him and that means you have to understand why you did this in the first place!"

"I want to get him out because he- he- doesn't deserve this!"

Al would have ground his teeth in frustration, but, once again, his lack of body interfered. "Its not about him, its about why you want to do it! Come on, Ed. Admit it! You don't want to rescue him because of anything he's done, its because you want to!"

"Yes, I want to save him because I'm passionately in love with him and I want to have his babies, like all the other girls in East City! Will you shut the fuck up already? I am not a damn girl, you are not a damn girl, so shut up and let's rescue him so I can kick his ass already?"

"I'm just saying..."

"_Shut up!_"

Al finally shut up, more because they were in and needed to be quiet, than for any other reason.

* * *

"It looks like our guests are here already," Lust murmured, watching their guests from the security of a nearby building.

She was accompanied by Gluttony, as always, who was laughing over something... and Envy rolled his eyes.

"We shouldn't waste this opportunity," Lust mused. "If properly persuaded... those boys could make the stone for us. Especially if that Fullmetal boy really does care for the Flame Colonel..."

There was a loud laugh from Envy- who leapt away.

* * *

"I really don't like this," Al muttered, propping Ed so he could work on a ventilation cover. It was the only entrance that didn't seem to be booby trapped or completely blocked or otherwise unusable. It was also the only one that could separate them.

"Well, I don't recall these assholes asking us what we liked," Ed grunted, throwing down the cover. "I'll go in and see if I can find an entrance for you. In the meantime, keep a lookout. We really can't count on the others right now."

Al heaved a gusty sigh. It didn't matter that (you got it) he had no lungs, he did it anyways. "Brother... you know this is a bad idea!"

"I don't care Al! I'm going in to get the Colonel _out_. You're just too big to go in there with me. I'll be fine. Anyone who messes with me is going to get six inches of steel up his ass."

Al watched Ed's behind as he wiggled in through the shaft, rubbing his faceplate's chin when he completely disappeared. There was silence after a moment, and Al went back to contemplating something that had been bothering him.

"Maybe he's afraid the Colonel won't want his ass in return? Is that why he won't give me an answer? Well... there always that chance I guess... But Brother really does have a cute ass..."

"Why are you worried about someone else's ass when you should be worried about your own?" an insane voice cackled in the darkness, and Al turned. Just in time- he dodged. A giant cleaver split the ground instead of his faceplate.

"My mother told me it was impolite to insult a person's ass to their face," Al answered, looking at the strangely armored man with the giant meat clever. "So I won't say anything when your back is turned. Who are you?"

"Oh, you really are a good boy, doing what your mother- Are you saying my ass is my face?" the other person shrieked, bouncing up and down and rattling.

"No, you're the one said that. I just said I couldn't tell the difference." Al had apparently misplaced his sense of self-preservation in the face of temptation. The guy in the weird skull mask was just too easy to bait.

Unfortunately the skull-mask-person decided then was when Al should be afraid.

"If I told you who I had been on the outside, you would wet your pants!" Al didn't care to inform him of his lack of ability to do that, too. "But here, you can call me 66!"

"All right," Al answered, losing his jovial mood. This guy had an meat clever... and he liked using it.

* * *

"Dammit! Who the hell thought of all these traps?"

Edward had barely avoided a rolling ball, and would have been squashed if he hadn't been so... nimble.

Right. Nimble.

Spikes, electricity, trip wires and pit traps... whoever designed this place had been reading too many trash adventure novels for their own good.

"Whenever I get my hands on whoever designed this place," he swore, imagining his revenge... It was better than imagining what Gran was doing to Mustang. Imagining what they were doing to him while he had to watch. Imagining not being able to help someone who had been pushing them forward for the past three years... His stomach felt funny.

What if Mustang didn't want his help? What if..?

He shook his head, imagining he could hear someone crying for help and telling himself it was nothing. Nothing at all, because he was nothing more than a stupid hormonal teenager wanting to play-

Wait. He really did hear someone.

There were several doors up and down the grimy halls. There were that many more chances for him to get squashed and/or ventilated... If he let them. Growling to himself, he clapped, changing the entire hall into solid, non-lethal concrete.

There. He nodded in satisfaction. Let them try a trap now.

Jogging forward, he started searching the doors- always changing them into something else before he opened them- and tried one. No person, just a room. Two: no person, just a bunch of... he didn't want to know. Three: no person, but a lot of file cabinets.

Four...

He carefully opened the door, eyes widening when he realized that was where the sound had come from. The light from the hall stepped in before he did, sliding over the face he had hoped to see.

"Mustang?" he asked, fighting down the hope that wanted to close his throat. "Are you there?"

A soft groan answered him. The light, unpitying, showed Ed a face swollen and bruised. Blood dribbled from his split lip... his nose was probably broken.

"Heh.. The girls probably won't be looking at you for a while," he whispered, taking one of the cleaner parts of his coat to wipe Mustang's face. "Damn, they did a number on you."

There was a wince from Mustang at Ed's words, but he groaned again, his not-black eye opening to look at him.

"Fullmetal?" he croaked. Ed nodded, still carefully wiping his face. "What are you..?"

"We're here to get you out, Col- well, I can't call you that any more. You're dead, you know that?"

The man cracked a smile, and Ed's stomach resumed the flip it had stopped earlier. "Wouldn't hurt so much..."

He was shackled, but that was hardly a problem for the Fullmetal Alchemist. A clap and flash later had the manacles in steel tubes falling to the side. Then he searched the man for injuries.

The silence was palatable, and Ed was grateful that his back was to the light as he felt the other man. There seemed to be some more bruising, maybe some cracked ribs, but- nothing too serious.

"Can you walk?"

"Anywhere away from here." He flashed that perfect smile in Ed's direction, even if his lips were a mess. Ed's stomach twisted again.

"Come on, bastard," Ed answered, crab walking over to get under his arm and help him to his feet. The older man leaned heavily, and despite the moment, Ed was content. He was helping, instead of being helped. It was a good feeling.

"Al's waiting for us outside. We can get you to a doctor later," Ed told Mustang, after he was quiet for several minutes.

There was more silence, and Ed was grateful for it. It meant he could distract himself from the blush on his face.

"Thank you, Edward." Dammit. He had to say that and make him blush more. "We can't leave yet- the lab- the lab is down that way. We've got to go there. They've done research on the Stone, Ed. It _might be there_."

Ed stopped, looking up at Mustang, his heart in his throat and his stomach filling with lead. "You know what you're saying?" he croaked. Mustang couldn't be implying what he thought he did, right? The Stone, for them to make it...

"Yeah, I do, Fullmetal. Come on. We have to do this."

To be continued.

A/N: Dun dun dun...

Sorry it took so long for this one to come out. I started drawing and I couldn't stop. Then I started coloring and couldn't stop. Then I got writer's block. Forgive me for the cliffhanger...


	10. Chapter 10

**Departure X**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Ed and Roy, others mentioned

Warnings: Shonen-ai, divergence from ep 13, emo!Roy, possible OOC, and attempted plot.

A/N: It is one week until my birthday. And yes, Ed will figure things out. Its just taking him a bit. Another note: BlackMercifulFaerie pointed out that big cats do not have slit pupils. Well... dangit. That means I have to change it. As of right now, ignore the eye part. I changed something else.

"This way," Mustang murmured, lips barely brushing Ed's ear, making a shiver run down his spine and his pants seem way, way too tight.

He told himself that adrenaline should have kept everything else in line; at least, that was the theory. He didn't have time to enjoy the feel of the man against his arms and back and to be close enough to listen to his...

Ed paused, breathing hard and ignoring the fact that his leather pants were increasingly too tight.

"Something wrong, Edward?"

Why was Mustang's arm draping down lower? Ed frantically tried to remember what it was he had been thinking about. It had something to do with Mustang- but he was still draped over him and his hand was just dropping below his waist and dammit that was just-

Just off, no matter how much he enjoyed it.

"Do you know if there are any guards?" Ed asked, as they walked down the halls. Ed couldn't get Mustang out the way he came in anyways. Mustang was way too- injured. Right. Injured.

"There's a guardian before we get to the lab. We need to get past him before we can get to the lab," Mustang said, leaning a little more heavily on Ed.

"Yeah... and why do we need to get to the lab again?" Ed asked, distracted by the talk of the guardian and the fact that Mustang's fingers were moving down his side.

There was something horribly wrong about all of this- but who else could this be? It looked like Mustang, had his voice... he was close enough that he could smell him. Yet he-

Ed was blushing as he recalled remembering Mustang's scent and how he felt. Yet he didn't, right now. Of course, that was easily explained... No bathes.

Then he would stink, wouldn't he?

He would be able to hear his heartbeat, right?

He'd been lucky, when he'd found Mustang... so... damn... easily.

If there was anything Ed had found out, there was no such thing as easy. He wanted to believe that this was Mustang... but his gut, the sixth sense Mustang had once teased him about, was telling him otherwise.

And whoever this person was, wanted him to go to the lab.

"We need to go because what you've been wanting is there, pipsqueak." Okay, maybe this was him after all. "The Stone- they're making it. They might have finished it. Don't you want to see?"

Ed stopped dead in his tracks, looking up at the man he had thought was Mustang. If he had needed proof...

"What's wrong, don't you want it?" the man asked, his face next to Ed's. His gut knew this wasn't Mustang, but his crotch didn't.

Ed cringed away. What could he say? "I want my brother back in his old body."

"Come on," the man said, getting impatient. "We need to get to the lab before they realize I'm out."

Did he have any choice but to follow? He had to see this story through to the end.

* * *

"I'm Alphonse Elric! I am a human being!" the suit of armor answered, unable to keep the soft quaver out of his voice. There had been times, that he had wondered. Yet his brother had unwaveringly believed...

He had believed he was Alphonse Elric, and he had never made Al doubt that.

The battle had gone ridiculously easily- this guy was really a pushover, and had been fun to tease on top of that. For one thing... for a serial killer, he was awfully high strung.

For another, he was a lousy fighter. He probably just expected people to hear who he had been and run screaming.

But then he had brought up Al's one weakness. The fear that he was not truly Alphonse Elric, that he was, indeed, nothing more than a suit of armor.

"My brother loves me! He would never do that to me- he saved my life!"

The madman danced in the moonlight, delighted at the wound he had made without striking a blow. "But how do you know that? How do you know that what you feel wasn't made up in the first place? How do you know that you are alive?"

"Wait- how do you know the same thing?"

Barry laughed, high and shrill. "Its easy! I love to kill- I live to kill! I kill, therefore, I am!" he shrieked, posing in the dim light.

"And it looks like one of your friends has shown up to die as well!"

Al had noticed the man-shaped shadow that had leapt clear of the fence to land casually on the ground below. He was a man Al had seen once before, if only for a few moments when they had run from the woman in black. White hair shone in the dim light, and the scars on his face were the only readily recognizable part.

"Who are you?" Barry and Al asked, at the same time.

_Who are you?_ Ed wanted to ask, looking at the man with him. He had no idea who this person was and how far he wanted to take the charade, but he had to go with it for now. The final straw had been when they had come across a security guard- normal human, who had been dispatched quickly. Ed had no problem knocking him out, but it had nailed the final peg on his suspicions. 'Mustang' had taken his gun.

Ed was disturbed. Mustang with a gun didn't look right... And this person didn't know it. He doubted that Mustang would take a gun, even in this situation. Right?

Whatever... this person wasn't him.

Ed still had to drag him down the hall, until they reached a corridor. "The guardian is in here," the impostor muttered into Ed's ear.

He grunted in answer. "Can you fight?"

"Like this? Surely you jest."

Ed scowled. He figured that impostor wouldn't take the charade that far.

"All right then," he said, and propped him against the wall. Even if this wasn't Mustang, he wasn't going to ask this guy to use his gun. Of course, he had no idea when impostor would shoot him in the back.

There was a soft press of lips against his forehead- and Ed went rigid, his face turning a brilliant red.

"For luck, hero," the person said, and Ed wanted to wipe that smirk off his face because it wasn't the person he wanted to get that kiss from.

Did he just admit he wanted a kiss from Mustang?

Shit, he did.

The eyes of the man before him glittered with a cold amusement at seeing his flushed face, and Ed hated him for that alone. He had never realized how much attention he paid to the expressions on Mustang's face, but it was enough to know this wasn't one of them. Mustang's face was mocking, but there was humor there. Not this... this... cruel contempt.

So he backed away, leaving the impostor on the dirty floor to face the hollow clank that was approaching from the other side of the room.

"Congratulations and goodbye for coming this far," the figure boomed, voice ringing merrily. "I am called number 48."

"Yeah, and I'm pissed." He hated it when people acted like they were going to win because he was... young. Right. Young. "And your ass is mine."

He was answered with empty laughter when he transformed his automail into a short sword, and they lunged for each other.

* * *

The white haired man approached, prowling in to range.

"I am searching for the State Alchemists Fullmetal and Flame," he answered, sizing both suits of armor up, and then dismissing them.

"Well, I'm sorry, anyone who wants to get in has to go through me," Barry chirped, turning away from the dazed Al. Al, on the other hand, wanted to hold his breath.

"You can't get them," Al ventured, an idea niggling in the back of his mind. The man just looked at him- blankly, like the idea of Al stopping his was ludicrous.

"You can't, because the Fullmetal Alchemist and the Flame Alchemist don't exist anymore," Al explained. "Flame was supposed to be executed and Brother, the Fullmetal Alchemist, has pretty much thrown away his title to see if Roy Mustang's still alive. You can't go kill the Flame and the Fullmetal if they don't exist, can you?"

The white haired man paused, before turning to the door of the building. "Out of my way."

"Uh uh uh! Have you all forgotten me?" Barry caroled- before skipping the few steps to cross the distance between himself and the white haired man.

"No."

* * *

The humming was almost subliminal, soothing as it rose and fell without a tune.

It was driving Gran insane.

The massive Brigadier General had done everything he could think of to get a reaction. He had spoken to him, he had hit him, he had made the freak bleed. He had then touched him, stroking him, seeing if a gentle touch or an amorous one could cause a reaction in the mindless creature.

It didn't make _sense_. Even without a mind, Mustang should have at reacted with the spinal reflexes all creatures were born with. React, pull away from pain. Move towards comfort. He wanted to see him feel fear without understanding why.

"Why won't you respond?" he hissed, kicking the man in the ribs. "Why won't you act like you're alive?"

He blinked, eyes narrowing- and hit Mustang again.

There. A flinch. It was almost invisible, almost overlooked- there. The giant's eyes narrowed.

"You little bitch," he whispered, almost with respect. "You aren't all gone, are you?" his tone turned into a low rumble, just before the door to the lab opened.

"Brigadier General," Tucker whispered, eyes wide. "Fullmetal and his brother have come. The homonculi are trying to get Fullmetal to come to the main lab... but-"

A gleam woke in Gran's eyes, and he looked down at Mustang. "It seems that your little pawn has come to rescue his king. How you like that, Mustang?" he grinned. "Do you think we could persuade him to make it? Seeing you like this... it might work," he purred. "He's such a pretty little boy, Mustang. Don't you think he'd be prettier covered in all the blood it takes to make the Philosopher's Stone?"

The eyes on the creature barely widened, mouth twitching in one of the corners, making Gran chuckle in satisfaction.

* * *

"No fucking way!"

He had taken Slicer's head off! He had separated the blood seal-

"Ha hah hah- one body, but two souls! Why would you think there was only one of us?"

"Indeed, brother... this is most amusing."

Dammit. "Are you all right brother?"

"I have been better," 48 answered, chuckling.

Ed did not find this funny. He was injured and was bleeding like a stuck pig, and lightheaded from the loss. Adrenaline could compensate for some of it- but he couldn't keep this up forever. He had to find a way to end this _quickly_- or he would never-

A gunshot brought silence to the echoing corridor, pinging loudly against the armored body. Ed and 48 shrieked as the rest of the armor fell- shards of metal baring pieces of the blood seal scattered and smoking on the ground.

"Brother! Brother, no!"

"What the hell?" Ed had no idea why his voice rose. The shot had come from the man he had left against the wall; the person pretending to be Mustang. "You didn't have to kill him!"

'Mustang' lifted an eyebrow from his position on the floor, arm out. Ed bared his teeth. "He was trying to kill you, pipsqueak. What should I have done- let him?"

"He was a fucking human being! You could have found another way!"

"Your definition of human being is far to open, Fullmetal pipsqueak," the man said, dismissively. Ed growled, recovering enough to sprint and transforming his arm to point at the man. He squinted through the blood dripping into his eyes to stare down into the impostor's face.

"Why the hell don't you tell me who you are, really? And then we don't see if you're human or not, the hard way."

The man sneered, standing up and was suddenly, miraculously unhurt. "Bravo, shorty. It took you long enough. What gave me away?"

"Other than everything?" Ed snorted, still pointing the blade at his throat. "The gun. Your eyes. Mustang regrets what he is, being a killer. You- you love it."

"Then why did you take so long to confront me about it?" 'Mustang' asked, leaning down, letting the blade kiss his throat. "I saw that cute little blush on your face. You liked having Mustang's hands touch you- you wanted more than just a little peck on the forehead."

Ed bared his teeth again. "So? He's a sexy bastard, and you're just a fake."

The aforementioned fake chuckled again. "You might prefer what you see here, to the real thing."

The adrenaline evaporated, leaving Ed cold and numb. His body held still a moment too long. It was just the second enough for a fist to land in his face, throwing him back several feet. Ed wavered, using both hands to regain his stance. The ringing in his ears mixed with the other's mocking laughter.

"Fucker. Tell me where he is."

"Oh, sure, I can do that."

Ed rubbed his eyes, wiping away the sting of blood, staggering. "What?"

"It's no trouble, taking you to him. You just have to do something for us. You have to make the Philosopher's Stone."

"I know the secret of the Philosopher's Stone, dammit! I won't make one of those disgusting things!" his voice rose, nearly hysterical. "I'll never do it!"

"Don't be so rash, Edward Elric," a deep voice murmured- and Ed realized that the head of Slicer was still there. "You would not be the one taking their lives."

Ed's eyebrows flew up. "What?"

"All you would be doing, pipsqueak, is using our materials, and saving your widdle-bitty brother."

A soft sigh came from 48, and Ed looked at the helmet, who had spoken of his own brother. His chest hurt.

* * *

"Tucker."

The abomination smiled, eyes wide with a despicable kind of hope as they landed on the younger alchemist. "It's been a very long time, hasn't it, Edward?"

Somehow it didn't surprise Edward to see him there in this place of the damned. "What the hell are you doing here alive?"

"I was allowed to continue you my work," he whispered- the loudest he seemed to be able to speak. Of course, considering that he looked like he'd been sampling his own arrays, Ed wondered how he had managed even that feat.

Anger shook his shoulders, making Edward close his eyes before they cut open at Tucker. "Why the hell are you still alive, when Nina..?"

"It is because of Nina, and my work here, that I am able to live on," he said, almost like he was trying to explain to himself. "I have failed many times, but with the help of the research here in Lab 5, I have been working on a way to bring my dear Nina back!"

The false Mustang rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, doc... we'll help you, just as long as you help us with the Stone. Now Eddie here wants to see your newest pet. Think you can handle that?"

Tucker scratched his human Adam's apple, located on the back of his neck, with one of his massive paws. "I just thought he might want to see how well Nina was doing."

'Mustang' snorted. "He doesn't really care about those dolls of yours," he hissed, gesturing at the many curtains- and Ed suddenly did care. He cared very much.

He approached, the cloth snagged by his automail fingers and yanked free- and Ed nearly fainted when he saw the dolls suspended lifelessly in the bubbling fluids. Nina; the little girl, his friend and playmate... her face was pieced together on the heads of empty puppets. One after another... the more animal-like ones he could look at. The more human ones turned his stomach.

"She is one of the reasons we need test subjects, Ed," Tucker whispered. "If I can successfully recreate her mind and memories, then my Nina will return to me. More perfect and beautiful than before."

"You're a sick fuck."

Ed turned to look at the fake and the freak. "You're all sick fucks."

"Listen- Edward, please, listen! For Nina's sake, for your brother's! Even for Mustang's!" Tucker's upside down eyes went wide, hands held up placatingly. "Listen to what they have to say. Follow- please!"

"For your brother's sake," the empty helmet he still held muttered, and Ed swallowed hard.

"Good boy," the last member added, the sneer never leaving his face.

They walked through a hall, and Ed shuddered. He couldn't credit it, but part of him thought he could hear screams. Just out of the range of his hearing- there were screams of pain and helpless rage that pounded against his head and skin. They were just too low to be heard.

It built- and Ed imaged he could feel the shrieks rising in a cacophony that he knew existed but couldn't hear-

And it stopped.

Red light coated the room, fluctuating endlessly over an alien array splashed liberally along the floor and walls. There were five pillars of similar fluid- five pillars that reminded Ed of the small dribble of Stone material that Marco had. His boots clacked dully against the concrete as he approached one, opening the tap and watching the red liquid squirm out before landing on the floor and huddling in on itself.

Ed knew where he was now. That Place, the one that terrified Dr. Marco. Those People- the ones who controlled everything. No wonder the man acted like it was hell.

He leaned over, picking up the not-liquid-not-solid and staring in to its depths. The screams wanted to resume but they were kept at bay by the array.

"This is where the raw materials used to make the Stone has been kept, Edward," Tucker piped up, overeager. "They're all here. It would be impossible for a normal alchemist to actually use those materials-"

Ed's lips twisted on the words. "But I'm not a normal alchemist."

"Yeah... go ahead, runt. Do it. You can use the materials and make the Stone." He noticed Edward's dull eyes. "It's not like you're the one who killed them. They're already dead and processed. Like getting meat from the butcher shop. You aren't the one whose done the deed."

Edward turned his back on them. "Where is Mustang?"

"He's right here, Fullmetal."

Ed had not noticed Brigadier General's arrival, but frankly he didn't even look at him. His eyes immediately were drawn to the bloody figure he was dragging on the floor.

"Mustang," he whispered, licking his own blood from his dry lips as Gran tossed Roy out in to the middle of the array. "What the fuck? What the hell did you do to him?" He didn't know he could summon up more horror from inside himself. Nothing about this place should have surprised him now, but this... this was what he had told himself not to imagine.

Edward had thought he looked normal- at first. He trotted over, kneeling beside him, hands and eyes darting over the limp body.

"We made him better, Edward." Tucker was positively cheerful.

His muscles, his skeleton- they were lying differently than they would in a normal human. Far more loosely, attached in slightly different places. Roy's mouth was open, and Ed saw the well developed fangs. His face was no different- beaten, but still human... then Ed noticed the faint pattern of rosette spots, like large dark freckles, trailing down the back of his neck and over his shoulders, before fading on his chest. His hands seemed larger, more powerful and hooked to mimic claws.

"Mustang? Are you all right?"

The false one snickered.

"Come on, bastard... talk to me," Ed whispered, half picking up Mustang to check him over. His real hand drifted over Mustang's head, his chest, feeling for concussion or broken bones... and he winced when he found the breaks.

"I'm going to get you out of here. Come on, asshole. Talk to me."

"That's impossible, Edward." Tucker enjoyed speaking, apparently. "We perfected our chimera making technique long ago, but we have not yet perfected the method of controlling them. At least, not when they begin with a human mind."

The smaller alchemist's hands shook, as he looked down at the man, whose eyes were still wide and staring. "What did you do to him? Combine him with, do to his mind?"

"We combined him with a species of large cat foreign to here," Gran said, smiling faintly. "I don't really recall what... very pretty thing, too. All black. As for his mind... we de-constructed it."

Edward swallowed the keen he almost began. "Mustang... speak to me. I know you're there."

"His conscious thought processes have been unmade, Fullmetal. All that's left is a shell to be reconstructed."

"Yes, and once we learn how to do that..." Tucker left it hanging.

"You don't give up, bastard." Ed found himself hunching over, nose to nose and eye to eye, and the dark eyes skittered past his face and a soft hum started in the back of his throat. "Think your enemy has a weakness and becomes his strength, remember? All war is deception. You asshole... come back to me!"

For a moment, for one moment- the eyes focused on Edward, slipping away and focusing again. Mustang's body tensed, lips puckering and pressing and fighting with himself to get the words out. "Ehhh... Fuuu..."

Roy's face crumpled, eyes closing in frustration, and Ed instinctively pulled him close. He was answered with the hum dropping down, his real hand going back to Mustang's hair. "I knew they couldn't get rid of you that easily."

Tucker was in shock, but Gran and the fake- who _shifted_, light slipping over his body to change it into a smaller, paler body- were smiling.

"He's still broken, Fullmetal. Do you think you stand a chance of restoring him without the Philosopher's Stone? How about your brother, your own lost limbs? Get on with it. Once you've used it, we can use it ourselves."

To say he would end his quest when looking at a red tear drop on a tabletop in a hick town was one thing... but to have it facing him, in this room thick with despair...

Three faces looked at him expectantly, and the fourth didn't look at him at all, just humming softly... but his hand came up to paw Edward's chest.

Did it mean anything? Edward didn't know. This was the answer to all his desires, to finally be able to return what was lost, to make things right again. All for the incredibly cheap price of his soul.

Al had told him he would destroy his own seal.

Mustang had kept him running in circles and had paid with his humanity.

Edward...

"I can't do it."

"I should have suspected that," Green-palm-tree-head, formerly called Fake, grunted. "Hey Lust! You guys get in here!" he said, turning to a conveniently placed intercom. "The runt needs more-"

**_KAAAAAA----BOOOM!_**

"Son of a- what's happening out there?" Gran called, eyes narrowing as the room shook. He grabbed the intercom. "Get me security! We have to get this under control!"

He might have had a chance if the wall in front of them hadn't imploded, scattering to the winds.

"Edward Elric," a voice Ed had only heard a few times before called down from the second floor. "The building is going to explode soon. I suggest you leave before I change my mind and kill you."

Looking at the white haired man and the green palm tree, Ed decided that no matter what this room held, he was better off running. Grabbing Mustang, he hauled him to his feet- noticing that he did move, at least with a little guidance.

They ran.

To be continued.

A/N: Yay. I'm sorry for all the plot, those who were hoping for romance...

IT IS FOUR DAYS UNTIL MY BIRTHDAY. Yay. Go me. I'm going to be 25.


	11. Chapter 11

**Departure XI**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Roy and Ed, others mentioned

Warnings: Divergence from episode 13, shonen-ai, emo!Roy and possible OOC.

A/N: Yay. Now we have completed one part and on to another, yet again.

Ed hoped that Al would be waiting for him.

He desperately, desperately needed someone who could carry Mustang- he was moving, and he obviously couldn't complain verbally- but he was starting to slow down. He supposed it was a miracle in and of itself that he was moving at all. The former Colonel probably had enough injuries that even breathing was painful and Ed certainly wouldn't have been able to heft the weight of a man head and shoulders taller than he was. He was barely able to keep tugging him down the halls, and not stop to cry over the stupid little whimper Roy kept making.

He was going to find Gran later, and make him regret fucking with Edward Elric. He should have known not to mess with the people Ed cared about…

Oh great. Not only did he want to kiss the Colonel, he cared about him too. The day just kept getting better and better.

"Come on, Colonel Asshole," Ed muttered. There was a soft creaking coming from Mustang's chest. What he would have given…

He was nearly thrown off balance when Mustang stopped completely, a true cat growl coming from deep inside his chest.

The woman in black, the one who had come chasing Dr. Marco, was standing there, eyes on Edward and completely ignoring the man who was making himself hoarse snarling.

"Now what do you think you're doing, Bouya? There's still work for you to do."

"I told you, I ain't making that damned Stone! Why the fuck don't you make it yourself? You've got enough alchemists running around!" Ed snarled with Mustang, edging between him and the woman in black.

"There is a peculiarity about myself and my cohorts. We can't use alchemy. That's why we try to get others to make the Stone for us."

Ed growled. "We'll find another way to make ourselves whole again, dammit. That can't be it."

The woman in black's face turned serious. "My goal is just the same as yours. I want to be human… and if you can do that, you can also fix your friend, here." She gestured at Mustang with her chin. "Or are you going to tell me you are perfectly all right with leaving him mixed with a female jaguar, his heart broken in pieces?"

The young alchemist wavered; looking up at the man crouched like some wild thing. A month ago, before he had started to see Mustang as an uneasy friend, he would have found the entire notion laughable but now-

Oh _dammit._

"Why can't you use alchemy? Even Tucker could do that."

"That's for me to know and you to guess at, Fullmetal boy," she cooed. "Come on now… You realize what's going to happen to your friend here if you don't? Tucker did a lovely bit of work… changed mostly just his musculature and his skeleton. On the surface, he looks pretty human, but on the inside…" She chuckled. "Of course, as there were some things that just couldn't merge… it will be interesting to see what happens."

"…" Ed didn't even want to go there. He didn't want to think of what _Tucker_ might have done, the fucking sick asshole.

"Come now. It's time for you to go back to the lab, Fullmetal boy."

"Don't listen to her, Ed! She's a _homunculus!_"

"Al?" Ed was overjoyed to see his brother approaching… with a massive dent in his side, but otherwise moving and seemingly all right. "Al, what happened?"

"It's all right, Brother," Al said, in that tone that said something was most _definitely_ not all right and that he was trying to cover. "I and… and my friend, we're going to get you all out of here."

Oh yeah… Ed knew he didn't like this. But that didn't matter. If they were getting out of there- whatever came later they could deal with. Jumping out of the frying pan, they could see how hot the fire was.

The explosion that had rocked the building earlier had been massive- Ed could see the damage in the thick concrete dust, cracked walls and uneven floor.

"Hey Lust! I'm having a bit of a problem here!" a voice called, and Ed blinked. It sounded like the true voice of the fake who had come after him.

There was a scream after that- followed by light, impossibly bright light and the sound of glass shattering. Ed had no idea what was going on but he knew he didn't want to hang around.

"Al- I have the Colonel. Help me haul his ass out of here!" Ed called, gesturing to the creature that was still snarling in the direction of the woman, every muscle taut. Al stopped, staring at the thing that had been Roy.

"Colonel Mustang?" the younger boy asked, managing to sound shocked and breathless at once. Ed didn't blame him. There was an undeniable edge of the _alien_ to Mustang now- something unnatural for the once always controlled man. In Ed's mind, it was nearly as bad as a young boy in a suit of armor, or a little girl forever merged with her dog, then brutally murdered. Ed had just added another person to his guilt list.

"Come on. We can't fix him here- we have to leave and I can't carry him like this."

The woman in black had left, obviously no longer paying attention to them and running for wherever the impostor had been. Ed noticed that Al seemed inclined to move in that direction too- but he obediently approached Mustang.

Mustang did not look inclined to be picked up, sniffing at Al distrustfully.

"Shhh… it's all right, Colonel." Ed noted the "talking to Kitty" voice. It had always worked before, Ed thought, hysterical. It should work now.

"It's all right, Colonel," Al whispered. "It's me, Al. You know me, right?"

It had always worked before, and once again, Al's sweet nature spoke to even the most savage spirit. Mustang relaxed, his eyes going from territorial and wary to weary, slipping closed as he toppled over. Al caught him a beat before he hit the ground, looking down at his brother.

"Do you think-"

"We will fix him," Ed said, emphatically. He was hanging on to his own consciousness with teeth, toenails and all automail, and it was barely enough. Yet he ignored his own hurts once more. "Come on, Al."

There was a pause, and Al looked back in the direction of the screaming. "Okay."

* * *

The air had been hot, scorching Edward's lungs and then cold, making him freeze after sweating, and he was staggering behind Al as they made it outside.

"Hawkeye and Falman are waiting for us," Al said, calling behind him and pausing for Ed to catch up. He had noticed how badly injured his brother was, but at least he could move on his own. Besides, he would just make a fuss if Al did stop to pick him up. Al didn't think they had the time for a tiff.

Al couldn't appreciate the cool of the air outside as they forced their way out, but he could tell that Ed was immediately chilled. Then again, he thought both his companions were going in to shock, and…

He looked over his shoulder at Lab 5. The scarred man was on his own for now, but he had a promise to keep and he would keep it. There would be nothing less than equivalence.

But that was for later.

"Al! Ed!" a voice shouted, and Al and Ed looked up in time to see Riza Hawkeye running towards them, pistols cocked in both hands and ready to give them cover.

"Whatever you two did, there's smoke visible from all over the city! The fire department is already on its way and we can't be here when they arrive! Get in the car!"

Those were more words out of her mouth than they had ever heard before, but it didn't matter because the sound of sirens whining in the background was getting stronger and they were making a desperate dive for the black truck idling on the street. Falman gunned the engine almost before they were inside- and they were off.

* * *

"Is that them?" Breda asked, voice crackling over the radio from inside when he heard the sounds of tires crunching across gravel and an engine dying.

"Yeah," Hughes answered from his perch where he had been acting as lookout. "We need to keep them covered until they get inside."

He could see Havoc's faint shadow move to guard the door, the silhouette of his rifle visible only by the faint gleam in the dusk.

Hughes had found a place for them to hide out- one that was under the military radar, in an area where no one asked questions. It was shabby, dark and smelled strange, but it was hidden, sheltered, and most importantly, securable.

"Marco, Fury- you two ready?" Hughes snapped, he heard them scramble to man the makeshift field hospital they'd put together. Hughes hoped that it wouldn't be needed, that a simple first aid kit would suffice… but he told himself to be honest. It was Ed and Roy he was talking about. They'd be lucky if they came back with all their limbs in the right places.

His mind was entirely on the mission, and he would worry about what came next when it happened. Gracia had gone to visit her parents, taking Elysia with her, and that had been a weight off his mind as he watched the anonymous truck open up to release its occupants.

Hawkeye and Al exited first- Hawkeye leaping from the truck bed with Al half a second behind her, lifting a limp form and cradling it cautiously, his red glowing eyes wary. Hughes let go the breath he didn't know he was holding. His best friend was _alive_, and that meant there was hope left. Until that moment he hadn't realized how much despair had been rotting his heart.

Ed opened one of the doors, getting out of the passenger side of the truck and walking around, transforming his arm into a blade to be on the safe side. Hughes briefly wondered what tried to eat Ed this time. Many things- terrorists, the military, fate itself- had mistaken Edward for a tender morsel and had choked, spitting him out all the worse for wear. Of course, he noted wryly, he seen what had happened to the devourer. No one wanted a second taste after the first.

"I think they're injured," he radioed down to the others, who opened the door to the safe house and all but pulled Alphonse in, Ed following while Falman and Hawkeye swept the area again before heading inside themselves.

He wanted to go in and check on his friend himself, but he wasn't going to leave his perch until he knew they weren't being chased or someone relieved him.

Then his binoculars caught sight of something that made him blink.

"He's still following them..?"

* * *

"Boss!"

"Edward!"

"Major Elric!"

The voices calling to him made Ed pause as he entered the dinky room, and it was just long enough for the adrenaline to stop flooding his system and exhaustion to crawl down into his legs. His human knee buckled causing him wobble.

"Brother!" Alphonse nearly dropped Mustang- would have, too, if Ed hadn't stopped and glared.

Al, being a brilliant individual in his own right, decided that dropping Mustang was a no-no and turned to Fury, who was gaping at the scene in front of him.

"Can you report?" Havoc asked, eyes still on the door. Hawkeye joined him, but her attention was split between the inside and the outside.

Ed nodded, choppiness making his hair fly. "Yeah… he's in bad shape. They'd already started experimenting when I got there." The breath caught in his throat, then he inhaled hard through his nose and his eyes shut, feeling heavy and numb and he let his automail knee buckle as well, sitting him on the floor with a thump. He barely noticed Marco crouching beside him and checking over his injuries. "They beat the shit out of him, too, and…" He didn't want to say it, because saying it made it real. That was stupid, because his words had nothing to do with it but dammit, he wanted to put this off. He hated seeing Mustang like this, and he wanted everyone else to believe there was nothing wrong…at least for a little while longer. Then again, he knew that was impossible.

"They turned him into a chimera- merged his DNA with that of another animal. According to Gran, it was a large cat. According to that woman, it was a jaguar- that's the species at any rate." Ed slumped forward, letting Marco clean the cut in his scalp, and then waving him away.

"Check out the other guy, Doc. I'm okay."

Marco let out an exasperated sound, but did as he was told. His gaze traveled to Mustang, and he inhaled sharply.

Fury was already peeling off Mustang's prison jump suit; eyes going wide as he saw the small spots that appeared halfway up his back and disappeared over his shoulders. Marco joined him as a deep sigh made his shoulders slump.

Then he stopped, checking Mustang's head. "Was he catatonic when you found him?"

"No… he was…" Ed pursed his lips, the ache in his chest having nothing to do with bruised ribs. "They deconstructed his mind. They intended to rebuild it so… I guess so they could use him again."

Marco shuddered, but his hands were still checking Mustang over, feeling his ribs. Ed had noticed the horrified silence that had come from the other soldiers, and Al, who was standing next to his brother and was starting to apply bandages.

"We have to decide what to do with him," Havoc finally muttered, looking like he wanted a cigarette- wanted one badly. "If he's like this… and you know, everyone's thinking it. I hate the idea as much as anyone, but if he's _gone_- shouldn't we let his body die? Wouldn't that be kinder? If there's nothing there-"

"There is!" Edward surged to his feet. "He is! He tried to say my name- he's still there! Whatever the fuck they did to him he's still in there!" Edward's face felt hot- especially around his eyes. "We can't let him- just stay like this-"

"Boss," Havoc said, putting his hands up. "You aren't the only person who cares about the Colonel. All of us- we're through as far as the military is concerned. That's all there is to it. But would he want to _live_ like this? I'm just saying it. It sucks, it ain't right, but-"

"NO! I'm going to fix him, dammit! Like I'm going to fix Al!" Edward's scream was hoarse, going pale, shaking his head in denial. "I promise- I'm going to fix him…"

"Edward," Marco said, turning back to them after a moment. He was wiping his hands with a rag- he had just finished bandaging Mustang's wounds. "There has never been a successful attempt at separating a chimera once it has been created. There's very little chance you can make him human again."

Ed grunted. "But I can try with his mind. His body is alive. That's what matters. I'll try to find a way to make things right."

Marco smiled faintly. "You might just be able to."

Havoc, Hawkeye, Breda and Fury were looking at each other, speaking in hushed tones, and Ed couldn't make out much but his name.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing!" Breda interrupted, crossing his arms defensively. Hawkeye rolled her eyes, exasperated, and went back to watching the door, while Havoc barely concealed a smile.

"It's not nothing- not if Havoc's smiling like that," Ed growled, eyeing them.

"It's nothing important, really! Just- uh- discussing what we're going to do next," Havoc tried to cover, finally giving in and lighting a cigarette. Ed waved his hand to dispel the smoke.

The growling and posturing didn't intimidate Havoc, mostly because if he said anything Hawkeye would perforate him.

Ed shook his head, turning to Marco, and willing his legs to move towards Mustang, who had opened his eyes and was looking around. The gaze was still wild and wary, but they landed on Edward and stayed there this time.

"Hey bastard… Don't worry. They aren't going to do anything while I'm around," Edward whispered, legs giving out again and dumping him on his behind again. Mustang's eyes lost a little of their wariness, giving him such an expectant _look_ that Ed wondered why he didn't try to talk again. It clearly meant _something_, even if he had no idea what it was.

"What are you going to do now?" Marco asked, sitting next to him. Ed was slumping over further, and his exhaustion was making him miss things he would have otherwise caught. Like Al being unusually quiet or that Mustang's expression was like a cat trying to use its great mind control powers to make the human pet him. Ed, being Ed, was totally clueless to it all.

"I need to find someone who might know more about this," Ed started, and then broke off with a wince. "There is someone I could ask… hopefully I'd survive it."

"Oh?" Marco was curious.

"Yeah- my teacher. She can do alchemy without circles, same as me. She might know things…" Ed shivered in genuine terror. "She might kill me, too."

Al, hearing this, gave a shudder as well.

Marco's eyebrows went up. "But would she help a former dog of the military?"

Ed paused, looking down at Mustang, finally noticing the faintly distressed expression and putting his flesh hand on his hair to soothe him. Mustang was thrilled that Edward had _finally_ figured it out; so thrilled he started to hum again, and let out a soft chuffing trill.

The sound made Edward faintly sick, bringing home how far away Mustang really was. He could touch him… but…

Al, watching in the background, kept silent.

"Sleep on it. We probably have a few hours, at least, and you are utterly exhausted," Marco said, being the voice of reason. The older soldiers nodded as well. "Eat something when you wake up. When you've rested enough you can think this through with a clear head. Right now you might do something you would regret later."

Ed really didn't need to be told twice- not when Mustang was humming softly, safe and _there_, his brother was nearby and there were people who were willing to protect him. Despite the fact that Gran could potentially be running in any moment to rip his lungs out, the fact that people _cared…_ It was warming. It was something he had not taken the time to appreciate in a while.

Ed lay down, not noticing that he was resting on the bare floor, because a warm body had curled up against him and he knew no more.

* * *

"He's asleep?" Havoc muttered, looking at Edward, with Mustang curled up behind him. It was a ridiculously cute scene, even if the two looked like they had gone ten rounds with a meat grinder. He doubted they even realized they were against each other.

"Yeah,' Falman answered, his face perfectly expressionless.

"All right boys, you know what we need to continue," Hawkeye answered, putting out her hand. "We all lost the betting pool. We have to pay up."

"Yeah- but who would have figured on Ed being gay?" Fury sighed, putting a few bills across her palm.

"Alphonse did," she answered, as money was added to the pot and delivered to the little brother- who had been quite happy to bet on his brother's love life.

Everyone was thankful that Edward was unconscious, and Mustang could not understand human words.

* * *

Al, needing no sleep, offered to take sentry duty for a few minutes while Havoc went to use the bathroom. It was extremely late, and there was no sign of pursuit or even that something was wrong.

Alphonse hoped that the scarred man had made it out alive. He would hate for him to have died without Al having completed his part of the bargain.

He would have to leave- and the best way to do that would be while Ed was asleep. He cringed at the though of being separated from his brother, even if it was necessary. His brother…

Al sighed, but the thought of playing matchmaker did appeal to him. If he was around, his brother would try to be all protective and focus on nothing but getting Al's body back… and not his own, or the fact that he was alive and there was more to living than just alchemy.

So, there was only one thing for it.

Al decided to write a letter. With any luck, he would not only be able to follow his lead to its conclusion- and Ed would be able to save Mustang.

It made him happy, to think of his brother with a love and a life- as for himself, he had a deal to keep.

He carefully wrote out is reasons… and scooted out when no one was looking. Sometimes, being the unobtrusive little brother was nice.

To be continued.


	12. Chapter 12

**Departure XII**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairing: Roy and Ed, others mentioned

Warnings: Shonen-ai, possible OOC, chimera!Roy, divergence from episode 13.

A/N: This is now working its way in to being my second longest fanfic. Only my Kyou Kara Maou fic, "Forgotten", is longer. A crossover of mine, "The Bet" is probably longer still but with this chapter, that one should be eclipsed. It's not the best writing I've ever done but it's been loads of fun, and I hope others have enjoyed it, too.

Why do I sound like this? I am tempted to start playing Neverwinter Nights again and that killed my writing last time. Le sigh.

What makes up a human, really?

Three different components were needed, and only one could truly be seen. Alchemists, being scientists, should not have believed that the other two existed. It should have been enough that the body was breathing and moving. Yet alchemists had learned that was not the case.

Edward Elric, in particular, had discovered this truth. He could name, down to the trace elements, exactly what went into a human body and how much of it. Yet he had seen what happened when you tried to make a body of nothing but matter, without that something _extra_, that special force that make it something _more_.

For this reason he deeply, truly believed in the existence of a soul, because he had managed to pull his brother's from the brink of oblivion when his body, what he had tried to make, had been completely lost. The physical was completely gone, and it wore a hard metal shell that was not even alive. Yet… the essence, the kindness and compassion and memories and quirks and temper and all of it- they were there.

His brother had forgotten nothing, so he had a mind as well. Was that what made him human?

What about Mustang then?

It had been a long night, and Edward had slept fitfully at best on the hard floor. Not that Ed minded that. At least it was smooth. He was also very warm, what with a long body nearly spooning him from behind.

Some cats, he had learned in the past, liked to be near people when they slept. That did not help the fact that he could feel Mustang's breath against the back of his neck, or the heat from where their bodies did, in fact, touch. It was very light- not pressing- but it was all he noticed.

Mustang was humming a bit in his sleep.

His soul was still there. That stubborn son of a bitch who would shamelessly manipulate events and people; the fool who would give himself up for a pair of reckless children; the man with hollow haunted eyes and whose pain Ed hated, because it meant that Edward was wrong about him- he was _still there_. Two out of three- someone had told Ed that wasn't bad, but which parts counted?

Fuck it. Mustang was still a person and damn if he wasn't going to fix him.

How did he feel about Mustang, anyway? Ed wiggled and grunted, rolling over and nearly gagging himself when his shirt caught under him. There was a soft shuffle as he managed to arrange himself comfortably, and peered into Roy's sleeping face.

Roy Mustang shamelessly manipulated events- running people through gambits like it was on a giant chessboard. Of course… he did it for a good reason. It still pissed him off no end…

Yet he did it to protect his people. Ed was one of those people, and so was Al. He did it so that people wouldn't have to bear the same kind of guilt as he himself did. He did it…

He did it to protect them.

Dammit.

Ed let his eyes drift, over Mustang's face and body, took a deep breath and tried to just _feel_ for a few moments.

Damn him for making Ed feel lust even when he was passed out and a bloody wreck. Even now- he was still beautiful. At least, he seemed so to Ed. He had gotten more beautiful when Ed had realized that Mustang wasn't the unapproachable smirking bastard he had always thought. His skin was still pale and smooth, where it wasn't purple and bloody. The spot pattern was delicate, almost unnoticeable in the dark. His eyes were the same, black and sharp and able to see through him.

Ed wondered what his lips felt like. Would they be as warm as the rest of him? What did it taste like to kiss him? What would it be like if Mustang touched him back? Did he groan? Would Ed moan back?

Ed's cheeks flushed, looking at Mustang, and he pressed his face into the cool floor. His thoughts had strayed into a vivid daydream of an argument with Mustang- only this time it turned into a make-out session on his desk- and he shivered.

This was _stupid_. Ed didn't need to be fantasizing about the smirking bastard or how much he wanted to get into a compromising position with him. He hadn't noticed that his hand had drifted into Mustang's hair until soft humming became louder, and that Mustang's eyes were suddenly fixed on him.

Predictably this was when there was a clink of metal and the sound of voices outside. One was the Lieutenant Colonel- the other echoed hollowly, and it could only have been Alphonse Elric.

* * *

Al's plan had been to leave the note, quietly sneak out, and then find the scarred man to fulfill his part of the bargain. He really had no desire to tell his brother- because Edward had trouble believing that Al would be just as devoted to protecting _him_. Or his guilt complex did; in the end, it amounted to the same thing.

What he had totally forgotten was the fact that their military friends were no where near as incompetent as they liked to believe.

"Now, what would a young man like you be doing running off in the middle of the night- especially without saying goodbye first?" Hughes asked, after leaping from his perch so easily that Al was unnerved.

"Who? Me?" Al hated being caught because he wanted to deny it. "I was- uh- going to pee!"

Hughes was not amused. "Al- I may not be an alchemist but please don't insult my intelligence. If it was you leaving _with_ Ed, I might have been tempted to just let you go. You two can do things together that the rest of us can't, which is why you had such a long leash. Now, explain before I wake Edward up and let him stop you."

Al really wished he could sweat. Hughes had dropped the goofball act, and Al had known that the people in Mustang's office were not what they appeared. None of them were. It was still scary to see that grinning face next to razor sharp, gleaming throwing knives.

"I- uh- I have to go though."

"You don't have a place to put pee nor get rid of it." Hughes grunted. "What's going on?"

Al heaved a sigh- or at least, made the sound- and muttered. "I have to. There was a scarred man who helped me rescue Brother and I made a deal."

A step announced another comer, a step and thump of metal. Al's worst fears were confirmed when that shadow gleamed yellow. "Deal?"

* * *

The night had seemed completely surreal as the white haired man dodged Barry's attack, moving swiftly and landing his red glowing arm on Barry's arm- who screamed, shocked and afraid from the spider web cracks that appeared. The skull masked maniac whirled, pointing his cleaver at the white haired man.

"Who the hell are you? You're some kind of a freak! How'd you do that?"

The man didn't answer with words, merely brandished the arm covered with writhing, twisted marks. Al was silent in confusion- the regularity suggested a transmutation circle, but it was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

"AH! Those marks! You're with them, aren't you?"

The man stopped, and the world tilted with his confusion. "Them?"

"Them! You know- the people who run this place! Wait- you don't know?" the masked man said in delight, pleased that he had used words, once again, to slice. "You don't know what's on your arm- what it has to do with the Philosopher's Stone?"

The man's expression went from confusion to rage, as his focus went from killing alchemists to a desire to _know._

Al would have had a sinking feeling in his stomach- but he imagined he felt it- when he saw that this man did _not know_. For whatever reason he hated State Alchemists, he had no idea what it was he was using to kill them… A plan blossomed, and he just hoped he would survive long enough to use it.

"You're hollow," the scarred man spoke, eyes narrowing. "That attack was meant to destroy flesh- next time, it won't miss. Tell me what you know and I promise I'll be swift."

"Well… let me see," Barry mused, rubbing his chin and backing up. "I could show you where there are a _lot_ of those things, where they are used and what I know they're being used for…"

Al knew he was not going to like where this was going.

"Or," Barry finished, dancing madly to place his hand on the wall, and a panel came up. "I could blow us all to hell! BWHAHAHAHAHA!"

Al could almost feel the rumbling through his legs as the ground shook, and he had a half second to decide on what to do. Of course, being Al, he didn't need that half second and he dived over the scarred man, colliding with his tall frame and sending them both tumbling. He was thankful that he could not feel the chunks of debris as they rained down, pinging tonelessly off his back.

The man under him was muttering to himself, something about a brother and god. Al didn't listen too closely- he was paying more attention to the shrieks of surprise and pain from within the building and worrying about his own brother to care. What if he was injured in the explosion? What if he ran in to trouble? Al had a clear shot in there… but he had to take care of something first.

"By the Almighty- what is your problem?" he heard the scarred man speak, with more volume this time. "I'm trying to kill your brother and-"

"You are trying to kill State Alchemists, and my brother can't be one anymore," Al answered firmly, sitting up and pushing the rubble off them both. "Neither is Roy Mustang. The State is going to be their enemy now." It was something Al knew Ed had not quite thought out, but it was true all the same. "It might not mean anything to you, but this will. If you let them both live, I'll help you learn about your arm." This grabbed the man's interest, as Al thought it would. "I promise you- you let my brother and Mustang go, never to be State Alchemists again, and you _will_ discover what your arm is."

It was a deal with the devil, but who the true devil was, Al did not know.

* * *

"After that, he helped me get in, and he knew that the people in black were homunculi," Al said, feeling himself shrink from his brother's outrage. "I don't know how he knew, but whoever he was; he knows a lot that we don't. And its equivalent exchange, Brother. I made a promise."

Ed would have made a storm cloud proud with his thunderous expression. "What were you thinking? He could have killed you!"

"But he didn't! I don't think he's a bad person, Ed! He agreed to the deal and he kept his part of the bargain! By the laws of equivalent exchange, I have to keep my part!"

"That's the biggest piece of bullshi-"

"Gentlemen," Hughes interrupted gently. His face was speculative as well. "Ed, if you are old enough to make decisions for yourself, so is your brother. More to the point, if he can keep looking for information on the Philosopher's Stone, perhaps he should. You want to fix Mustang, and you can't work on both at the same time, Ed."

Ed wanted to protest- but he noticed that Al was edging like he wanted to run away, while another body had shuffled in to the doorway, looking like he had no idea how he had ever managed to get there but somehow approaching Edward and Hughes in that same obscure way.

Al had the unkind thought that being merged with a cat somehow suited Mustang perfectly. They never gave anything way and they always pretended to be aloof in public, no matter how warm they were in private. They were demanding, snooty and jealous and they were picky about who they liked…

And this one seemed to like Ed a lot.

Al wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

Mustang was watching it all with a half puzzled expression on his face like he was trying to understand what was going on but couldn't be bothered. Ed, Al saw, was looking at Mustang, then at Al again, almost despairingly.

"I'll be back, Brother," Al promised, reaching out to put his hand on Ed's shoulder. Edward, for his part, looked over and away.

"I thought you never wanted us to be separated."

"But we're not- not permanently. I'm going to come back once I've helped this man."

_And when I do- I'll be able to make you whole again._

Edward sniffled, and Hughes kindly looked away, while Mustang continued to look politely puzzled, before sauntering close enough to put his own fingers in Edward's hair. It started the smaller alchemist enough to look up at him. Mustang was unbraiding the plait, carefully running his fingers through the mess… grooming him without resorting to his tongue.

Al wished he could cry for his brother now.

"We will make things right again," Alphonse said with conviction. "We will."

Ed shivered a little under Mustang's touch, but didn't stop him. "Yeah, we will."

* * *

Hughes' eyes narrowed as he watched Al lumber into the distance, listening for the steady clank until it faded away.

"Are you going to follow him?" Hughes asked to the shadow that had yet to detach itself from the walls behind him. It had been sheer luck that Al had not noticed their visitor, the one who had been with them since they had gone to find Dr. Marco.

"Yes, I believe I will. Edward Elric will be taken care of, but this young man needs to have someone watching him."

"You recognized the description Al gave as well, didn't you?"

Major Alex Louise Armstrong, the Strong Arm Alchemist, nodded. "Yes. The Alchemist Killer, dubbed Scar. If he is truly only killing State Alchemists, then Alphonse Elric should be safe. However…"

"Yeah," Hughes blew through his lips, running his fingers through his hair. The situation was getting out of hand very quickly. "He does need someone to watch his back and just keep stock of the situation…are you okay with this? I can't order you to do it-"

Major Armstrong smiled, waving it off with a giant, beefy hand. "I will do this for my former comrade, and because it must be done. The Armstrong's have devoted themselves to justice for generations- and justice must be served. If there is any justice, this will turn out well."

Hughes laughed softly, this time running his hand over his face. "Just keep Al alive, okay?"

Armstrong nodded, putting his hand on Maes' shoulder. "I will." He quickly walked away, following the road the young man had taken… and Maes hoped he would see the giant again. He was really a good guy- crazy, but a good guy.

Hughes hated it when friends died.

Edward had taken Roy inside, and they were sitting on the floor, with Mustang still trying to groom the blond alchemist and Edward was allowing it. Hughes took a moment to smile at the sight; Edward in the throws of a crush was a terribly cute thing, blushing and confused and doing his best to act cool. Hughes sincerely hoped he wasn't going to get his heart broken.

When Maes had discovered younger Roy's feelings for him… he had not handled it well. He had stated before that he was straighter than a pencil, and it had nearly ruined their friendship. If it hadn't been for the intervention of the Ishbal War, it might have been ruined completely. Thankfully Riza had been there- the daughter of Roy's teacher and an even better friend than Maes- and had threatened to pistol whip him into submission if he didn't get his act together and patch things up before Roy shipped out.

Hughes had never been more grateful to anyone than he had been to her, because if he had let Roy go off into that meat grinder without mending things, he would have never forgiven himself. Riza had more balls than the entire military combined.

Speaking of which, she was awake, watching the painful interaction between Roy and Edward with a strange smile on her face.

Gesturing with his chin, she nodded and eased her way up, standing next to him in the corner as Ed grunted and rolled over- Mustang deciding to drape over him. Hughes had to wonder how much was the cat and how much was Mustang.

"Care to share your input, First Lieutenant?"

Riza was quiet, the muscles in her jaw visibly working. Hughes felt about the same way. "We've got to get them to place safe enough for Ed to figure something out- and find out exactly how the Fuhrer and the military reacted to tonight. Was Gran acting on his own? I don't know. If this is a suitably large embarrassment, we might survive. If Gran can cover it up…"

Hughes nodded.

"Are you going with Roy and Ed?"

Riza nodded. "They need someone to watch their backs if Al isn't there." Her smile was tight. "Though Edward is probably not going to be happy. What will you be doing?"

"What I do best, babe. Keeping my ear to the ground and finding out all I can. The others will need to be taking leave, too. For now, we survive."

Riza nodded, almost laughing. "For now. And see if the Colonel's luck can pull off a miracle."

Hughes snickered. "Or Ed's."

* * *

Al really had no idea how he was going to go about finding the scarred man as he slowly tromped through the night to the remains of Lab 5. He had no idea if he was even still alive. The man had taken on some of the homunculi, and that was a task that terrified Al more than he would have cared to admit.

He stuck to the shadows as closely as possible, not letting himself get caught in the streetlamps. Morning was fast approaching and false dawn colored the sky to the same shade as his armor.

Al was worried. So far there was no sign, and it wasn't like he… it wasn't like he could go up to the few raggedly dressed people wandering about if they had seen a man…

"Yeah, he was really weird," a little boy hissed to his taller friend, brother maybe. "He had this big scar on his face and he was bleeding real badly and probably had some broken bones. We found him floating in the sewer- he's definitely Ishbalan though."

Al didn't believe in god, though he had to wonder if something had intervened here. He slowly approached the boys- both of them with dark hair and skin, and their eyes were red as fire- and tried to seem as unthreatening as possible.

"Uh… excuse me. You don't know me, but I'm looking for my friend…"

To be continued.


	13. Chapter 13

**Departure XIII**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairing: Roy and Ed, others mentioned

Warning: Shonen-ai, divergence from ep 13, chimera!Roy

A/N: I was wrong- this is now my fourth longest fic. It will be catching up soon if I keep writing at the same rate I am now.

He hummed to himself, absently dragging his fingers through the grains and shards of memories. His fingers, not quite human, but certainly not a cat, slid through the jagged edges without a snag. He had tried, but failed, to hold them long enough to piece them together. He could barely touch them to even see what they were. The more he tightened his grip on them the faster they had fallen through his fingers.

Once or twice- he could grab a particularly large chunk and hold on long enough to do something. There, the fragment of a night of icy rain and hellish light and a small cub with lost limbs, helped him almost say a name. Here, a large shard showing him blood spatters and a child shape on a wall reminded him that he _couldn't_ let that happen again and he growled defiance at the human-but-not in black.

Yet it was so much easier to sit there and drift, occasionally finding himself able to peek out of his own eyes.

There were people around him; people he knew if couldn't name. The familiarity was comfort and he let himself rest. There were familiar smells- dusty tobacco smoke, someone's aftershave, gun powder and machine oil. Instincts other than his own demanded he be stroked- for his own comfort, and the comfort of the one doing the stroking. He also wanted to comfort the poor cub. The cub was part of his territory, as the others were, and that was something both the human heart and the cat mind agreed on. They were _his._

Sleep came easily. There had been a disagreement between the broken human mind and the animal urges- he allowed the washing of his wounds to be a compromise between his desire to lick them himself and the knowledge, however vague, that it might cause infection.

When he drifted away, he was someplace where he could see bits of what was going on, but usually he just let himself go into oblivion. His pride was rubbed wrongly by this- but he could not remember why.

Oblivion was a boring place; one he mostly ignored. It was bright, not-hot-not-cold, not truly anything. Sort of yellow and bright, except for the monstrous shadow that loomed behind him. He never looked back at it. Ever. Unlike that silly cub, he knew that some knowledge was not for him to know.

There were two pieces of himself that Mustang had been able to find, and put back. One piece had stayed with him, the other he had found and held on to and refused to let go.

A name; both were names that had been fished from the loose pile of scattered shards.

Roy Mustang- his own name, his sense of self. Roy knew who was doing the searching, even if he wasn't sure if that person was a man or a cat or something else. The other name had no face with it, but it was important. It was important because he _knew_ that the owner of the name could do things Roy Mustang could not.

Edward Elric. Now, if only he knew who that was…

* * *

There were reasons Edward hated disguises, he thought, cutting his eyes over at Hawkeye. She didn't pay him any attention; she was too busy scanning the throng at the train station for pursuit.

"Why do I have to wear this again?" he growled, looking down at the little boy sailor suit, his hair tucked up in the absurdly cute hat, holding a teddy bear. Ed was certain that if his legs were both flesh, he would have been wearing shorts as well.

"Because you look _so cute, _little brother," Hawkeye answered, whirling to clap her hands together and press them to her cheeks. Edward cringed.

If he didn't know it was part of her cover, he would have a) believed in possession, b) thought she that shape shifting fake, or c) wondered if she had an evil twin. It was still disturbing to see her dressed in a frothy pink frock, with a wide brimmed feathered hat and gloves.

"Listen to your sister," Dr. Marco added, for good measure. He was not dressed as outrageously, not suffering the indignity of making himself appear younger or older or pretending to be an engaged female. That was part of the cover that truly, truly pissed him off.

They had decided that they would break apart- with the bulk of the Colonel's staff staying in Central with Hughes to leave a false trail and gather information.

"Honey, look!" Hawkeye gushed, grabbing Roy's arm and turning him away from the stray dog he had been glaring at. She pointed at the train- and Roy backed away.

And that was the part about their cover that pissed him off the most. Mustang, dressed casually but wearing a blond wig and glasses was supposedly affianced to Riza Hawkeye. He had to hold in the urge to fly into a rage every time she touched him… He had been pouting constantly since their plans had been made.

The pout played in to their roles quite nicely. Marco was Ed and Riza's father, going with Riza's betrothed to get married in Dublith, Roy's home town. Ed was pretending to be a ten year old- who hated train rides.

Oh, the indignity.

Dublith wasn't that far away, so Ed was happy they wouldn't have to keep this up for more than a few days. Taking a deep breath and letting it out, Ed tried to distract himself.

"Why aren't we seeing wanted posters or guards?" Ed asked, looking around, and then remembered to bounce on his toes for his part of the cover.

Marco put his hand on Ed's shoulder.

"They can't announce that Mustang is alive, now can they?" Riza answered, clutching Roy's arm and putting down his hand. He'd started snapping his fingers at the dog, who was utterly bewildered and backing away from the cat-man. "Especially since they announced his execution- to admit he's alive would be a slap to their credibility. More to the point, if Gran was working alone, he would be the one doing the cover-up, and that would be more important than us."

"Nice to be underestimated," Ed muttered, moving to stand in front of Mustang. "Since we can't look for the obvious, what can we look for?"

"Anyone paying more attention to us than they should, anyone who might be a fighter… Anyone alone who turns up too often. But we should assume the worst at all times."

Ed nodded, the pout never leaving his face.

"All aboard!"

The conductor's cry went up, and Edward turned as the small party went to board.

* * *

Dublith was to the south of Central, a couple of days by train. It was not the furthest that Ed had ever traveled, but it was not the shortest by any means. Still, after the last couple of weeks, the relative boredom and quiet of being on a train was welcome.

He was used to Al's company, and this was not it. Edward glanced over at the others, not moving his head from its position on his palm, elbow propped awkwardly on the small window ledge. Riza, sitting on the bench opposite Ed, would look up every few moments and scan the train car then return to her book. Marco sat next to Ed and was lost in thought. Last was Roy, sitting across from Ed, staring out over the countryside with a bemused look in his eyes.

At least he wasn't panicking or hissing. That was comforting… but he rather wished he'd gotten to sit next to him instead of Hawkeye. Then he let out an exasperated huff.

"You're taking it too seriously," Riza finally said, not looking up from her book. "Roy and I never have had that kind of relationship and we never will."

Ed twitched. "What are you-"

"Edward, please do not assume I am blind."

_Twitch_

What, did everyone know his feelings before he did? Was he that obvious? Why the fuck did everyone know what was going on in his head?

Edward gritted his teeth. "And why would I think that?"

Riza did look up then, a faint smile flickering over her face, and Ed felt a little twinge. She could be so pretty when she wanted to be. Why wouldn't Mustang want her? Especially over him… Edward stomped that thought.

"You are quite passionate about those you care about."

Ed looked down and away. "And there's no guarantee that anyone would be like that-"

"Edward, he threw away all his plans and ambitions. If that is not passionate, I have no idea what is."

Ed blushed. "But… not how I'd like…"

The woman's eyes softened. "It is unexpected. Yet you have not given up on anything in your life. If this is what you want- truly want- pursue it, Ed. If it is just a crush, enjoy it and let it end. If its not… then grab hold and don't let go."

That was probably the most poetic thing Ed had ever heard come out of Hawkeye's mouth. He couldn't stop his jaw from going slack in amazement- and turning away to blush all the more.

In the meanwhile, Mustang had started to hum again.

* * *

Ed dreamt of two things quite often.

The monstrous thing that _should_ have been his mother was a common subject- to this day, it haunted him. The… thing… looking at him with accusing eyes, and the fact that he had hoped, hoped that with the loss of his brother- maybe his mother had come back to him. Then the horrible guilt when he realized it had all been for naught and that Alphonse had paid for his arrogance. Al had tried to warn him, and…

The second was the Gate, and the truth held within.

It had been there- all of it had been there. Everything he had ever imagined, ever wanted to know, had been there… and he had wanted more after that first taste. Before he had realized that _his brother_ was there as well- and had wanted more.

It was of that place he dreamed of now, shrinking back from the absolute nothing that was the end of all things. The black Gate writhed- he could never see it clearly, but the figures surrounding it were never the same in his memory, as if the vaguely human sculptures were living things to move and dance and made to torment his sleeping mind. Yet he could nearly feel the weight of all those eyes on him, the ones that should have been shut out by the heavy, infinitely ancient doors. They were cold and burned and stripped away his delusions and ego and if the doors hadn't been there, they would have been clambering for more of his flesh.

There was a familiar humming- that was new.

It drew his attention away from the Gate, to the side, and-

"_Colonel?"_ the man was sitting there, turned away, running his hands over and through a pile of broken glass.

No answer, but the humming had a tune this time- what Ed thought was a bawdy drinking song.

Now his subconscious was being deliberately cruel. It taunted him with someone else he had failed… Showed him in a place where he was still untouchable.

Well, he knew it was a dream. Maybe if he apologized here, he would feel better when he woke up.

He made his way over to the man, who had yet to notice that he had company. As it was a dream Edward should not have been surprised, yet shouldn't Mustang have had least had some reaction by now?

"_Colonel? Roy?"_

"_Yes?" _the man asked, lifting his head, expression slightly dazed. "_That's my name… I think."_

"_You think?"_ Had Ed's subconscious really come up with that?

"_Yes, I do think,"_ Roy answered, rubbing his chin. It hurt, that this phantasm was a chimera, too. The hands were there, and Ed noted that the body was far too fluid to be fully human. Dammit. "_I know my name. I don't really remember much else, but that's my name."_

Right. Edward realized he must have eaten some bad train food. "_You don't remember anything but your name? You know who I am, right?"_ He finished approaching, and squatted, his real hand going to Mustang's hair. It was a habit he had gotten in to in the past few days- for his comfort and for Mustang's as well.

"_I've seen you before, but I don't know your name."_

This was creepy. "_What are you doing here then? I shouldn't be dreaming about you and the Gate at the same time, unless I'm really putting myself on a guilt trip."_

Roy tilted his head, leaning into Ed's touch. "_I don't know… I think I've been here for a while. I don't know how long. You're that silly little kitten… I see you sometimes when I go back."_

"Little kitten?"

Mustang, even a figment of his imagination, was insulting his height. Somehow God was still pissed off at him.

Yet he was smiling. Not Smirking Smugly, but genuinely smiling. That was something he doubted his imagination could create.

"_Yes, a kitten. I never look behind me- I don't want to know."_

Ed shuddered. If he had never looked, had decided not to open Pandora's Box… Don't think about it, he told himself.

Mustang was still smiling at him. "_A very cute kitten that hasn't quite gotten into his adult coat but is already a fine hunter. I bet you will have no trouble finding mates."_

His brain fizzled and he told his unconscious mind to please find something else before he tried to kiss the Colonel in his dream.

So instead he distracted himself by looking at the shards Mustang kept running his hands through. The man himself, while a chimera, while _there_, was not able to touch the broken glass before him. At least, he assumed they were glass. They were transparent, though they hardly looked regular. They were shaded as differently as a rainbow, some thick and melted like slag, others were fine needles. They were not all in that one pile- some had been tossed several feet away and they gleamed in the ever present sourceless light.

"_What are those?"_

"_Memories."_

Ed really had to make sure not to eat train food before falling asleep. Things had turned surreally metaphorical. "_Why are your memories there and not inside you?"_

"_Because my mind has been in pieces for a long time. They just kicked the remains around. How should I know? I'm just here."_ He would have thought Roy was getting annoyed if he hadn't spoken in a completely soft, sing song voice. Like he didn't care that he was talking about his own memories; everything was inconsequential.

Wait.

"_How do you know who you are then?"_

"_I found two names. My name is Roy Mustang… I am me. I am I."_ He sounded very proud of that. "_I… I have something important I have to do. There is something I cannot let happen again. I had people to protect."_

"_And the other one?"_

"_Edward Elric. Do you know who that is?"_

Edward lost his balance from his crouch- his human hand falling from Mustang's hair into the pile of shards-

/He was wet and cold, the rain having gotten under his hood as he walked on foot the rest of the way to the Elric home. It was exactly as they had described it- or it would have been had this nasty squall not decided to show up.

There was a gun in his pocket and he wondered if he would have the courage to use it. He had to give it to that little girl and let her pass judgment and…

He looked up, seeing a bright light- too far away for him to make a run for it…

"I smell something foul in the air…"/

* * *

"_Holy shit!"_

Ed woke up, jolting from his seat and sending sweat flying.

There was no one else awake. The train was dark and quiet for the night as they approached their first stop in Rush Valley.

Wait, someone was awake. A sleepy sigh told him that he had disturbed the person who had draped himself over Ed's lap… and it was the strangest thing to see. Mustang's face, eyes easily seeing in the dark, looking up at him in the moonlight, face creased in sleepy protest from being disturbed.

"Well, I'd have liked to have kept sleeping to, kitty bastard," he murmured, putting his fingers on Mustang's face. It felt natural to do so- he had lived with enough cats in his life to recognize a few of the more obvious expressions. (Not that cats have many- for that matter, neither did the Colonel. This fusion thing was so appropriate it was unnerving.) This one was "pet me".

He held back a hysterical snicker- he could imagine Mustang wanting to be petted back when he was normal… In fact, Ed had wanted to when…

Edward shuddered. "My teacher should help put you back together," he said softly, and Mustang hummed sleepy agreement. To what, Ed didn't know. The dream still haunted him, the bizarre images of a night he could not remember and had no idea where it had come from played through his mind.

His discomfort had to have shown on his face- because Mustang was suddenly nose to nose with him, frowning at him in a way that would have had him shaking in his boots. He looked like there were words, on the tip of his tongue, but still unable to say them.

"It's okay," Ed soothed, rearranging himself in his seat. "I'm okay."

It was sad- Mustang had always hidden his emotions so well. Was he acting this way because, for whatever reason, the jaguar liked him? Or was it Mustang himself?

The man sighed in relief, retaking his seat on floor between the train benches and settling against Ed's lap again. For such an awkward position, he acted very comfortable. Edward had to swallow more hysterical laughter.

"Hopefully, when we find my teacher, I'll survive long enough to get you back to normal, and maybe find out how to save Al, too."

The dream Mustang didn't remember anything. That was a lot of how Mustang was acting now. He acted as if he had no frame of reference or memories outside of…

Absently chewing his bottom lip, Ed watched Mustang drift back to sleep. It was useless to ponder a dream. They were the leftovers of his worries and guilt. They were useful only in that they could show him things he had not thought of when awake.

Mustang started to hum again… but as Ed drifted back to sleep, he thought he could make out the tune of a certain bawdy drinking song…

* * *

"Okay… we're deliberately missing our train on purpose?" Ed asked, getting a headache.

Riza nodded, forcing Mustang to sit down on the train bench and not sprawl on the floor. "Yes. If we have pursuit they will be stay with that train. If speed wasn't important I would have us take several other connections before arriving in Dublith, but we can't stay around people for long without risking Roy giving himself away." She absently patted the man on the shoulder- who acted like she wasn't there. He was staring off at something, mouth opening and closing as if trying to talk again…

Ed was thankful no one was there to see his teeth. Those teeth were unnerving.

"So which train are we taking next?"

Dr. Marco was at the ticket booth, explaining that they had been in town, looking at the automail, when their train had left without them. He would even pay extra if they would just be able to get on that train.

Ed slumped, listening to the sparse crowd that eddied and flowed around the corner bench they had occupied. There was the usual banter between couples and families, shop talk, the occasional baby crying… it was barely audible- it was quite early in the morning and most people who not be traveling quite yet.

"Yes, I've been looking for a young man named Edward Elric. I heard that he was in the company of a man in a large, dark gray suit of armor. Have you seen him?"

Ed went silent, eyes wide. He had immediately heard his name; turning to Hawkeye, he gestured in the direction of the voice. The expression drained from her face, leaving her normal business mask, one hand going to her tiny handbag which had to contain a pistol.

Getting to his feet, Ed nodded to her, hugging the teddy bear and making himself look small and innocent as possible. (And damn, that rubbed him the wrong way)

Whoever this person was, knew about Al, and they could go after him too- and he suffered pangs of guilt for leaving his little brother to go off by himself. He berated himself silently as he tried to find the speaker… He was so focused that he barely noticed when he bounced off a mountain of muscle.

"Excuse me," Ed began, keeping his voice high- and stopped. His eyes went huge and the blood drained from his face.

Sig Curtis looked down at him. "Hello, Edward. Long time no-"

"_You._" The word was spoken with such loathing that Edward wondered if it would make his skin peel off. His back went stiff as he hobbled around… He barely remembered to duck in time.

"Hello, Sensei," Edward squeaked. His teacher's fist had lodged in wall behind him, and Ed tried to escape.

"I've heard about you," Izumi Curtis, proud housewife, growled, freeing her hand and circling to the side. "You became a dog of the state-"

"Not anymore, he's not," a cool voice interrupted, and Ed went nearly faint with relief. Hawkeye's disguise had been dropped, pistol out and pointed, not at Izumi, but at Sig. It was ridiculous that Ed felt so relieved to have a gun on his teacher's husband… but having at least one scary woman on his side really helped his instinct for survival.

Izumi and Sig were not stupid people. The factors for and against this situation were balanced. While Izumi could possibly dodge a bullet, Sig probably could not, and she could not stop Hawkeye from firing at that distance. Yet there were people who would be drawn to the sound of the gun and thus, firing it was unlikely. Still, Sig and Izumi did not know how far Hawkeye would go.

So it was time to talk.

"Well, uh, Teacher," Ed started, swallowing nervously. "She's right- I'm not a dog of the military any more. In fact, I came for your help…"

Izumi growled- she did not like someone threatening her honey- and pounced, throwing him against a wall.

A deep snarl, following by the feeling of teeth on her arm, stopped her from doing worse. The dark woman's eyes widened- seeing equally dark eyes glaring up at her with warning- and the pin pricks relented. They had barely pierced the spin… And she let Ed drop to the floor.

"A chimera- a human based chimera; I didn't think they existed," she murmured, eyes wide at Mustang who had come out from where he was hiding.

"Yeah," Ed whispered, getting up off his ass. "This… this is my former commanding officer. Can we go some place else to talk?"

Izumi's eyes narrowed, looking at Hawkeye, who lowered her gun and hid it invisibly in her dainty clutch handbag. Her disguise went back up…

"Oh, it's so good to see you! Brother and I haven't seen you in years!" she chirruped, making Sig and Izumi looked baffled… until they noticed the slight crowd they had attracted.

Laughing tightly, Izumi went along with it… but she looked just as queasy about the role as Edward.

Mustang, unable to speak, made a sound like he wanted to cough and draped an arm around Edward's shoulders.

Ed really wished that Teacher had been looking the other way when he blushed, again.

"Yes… I do think we need to talk."

To be continued.

A/N: Bad blocks and bad distractions happened when working on this one. sighs

Thank you, toxicbullets, for beta'ing the last one.


	14. Chapter 14

**Departure XIV**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Roy and Ed, others mentioned

Warnings: Shonen-ai, divergence from episode 13, chimera!Roy, attempted plot

A/N: I'm trying to start working on this chapter early. I am very tempted to turn the Scar/Al story into its own separate series because it's likely to be completely separate from this one for a while. Otherwise I would probably be splitting chapters or alternating from Al and Ed's perspective.

"_Kitty bastard, give me back my legs!"_

The trip to Dublith had been a quiet and stilted one. Fortunately it was also one without bruises and bleeding, because people would have noticed a youngster being beaten on a train by a strange woman. However, Teacher had refused to discuss anything- not State Alchemists, not the mind-shattered chimera, nor their fugitive status. So there they were, trudging through the dust on a hot afternoon to get to the Curtis' Butcher shop… All the while awaiting they wayward pupil's punishment.

This had nothing to do with Edward's current predicament.

He had been loaded down with as many bags as he could conceivably carry; a very clever stratagem devised by his teacher to keep him hobbled. He would have to literally drop everything to make his break for it- and she would immediately take notice, giving her more than enough time to stop him. Even worse was that the baggage was piled high enough in his arms that he couldn't see above it.

Edward had doubted Mustang was truly thinking coherently, but there were the cat instincts and the mischief of a human soul remaining… One that had decided it did not like the tension or being ignored.

Somehow Mustang tangled himself in Edward's legs, making a soft chuckle-hum as he draped over Edward in the middle of the road. This of course caused Ed to spill his burdens- making them both fall, with Mustang landing on Edward. Thankfully Edward had dropped fast enough that his teacher's fist swung harmlessly over his head, only taking a few hairs out of his bangs.

His legs were sat on quite quickly by a smirking ex-Colonel, and Ed thought he saw a flash of Roy's old self. It left Edward shaken for long enough that Mustang had put his chin on Edward's shoulder, still almost-laughing.

This resulted in Edward's screech of anger and his current situation.

"I am _so_ going to blackmail you with this when I fix your mind, Mustang," Edward vowed, turning into a snarling beast thing.

Mustang was not at all impressed, wiggling a bit to make himself more comfortable and causing Edward to turn red in the face. The stifled snicker and obvious chuckles from behind him told Ed that his dignity had taken yet another beating from Mustang… He wanted to be angry, but…

He meant to pull Roy off his legs but his hand decided he liked petting Mustang better. Edward had the sudden, ironic thought of going up to Al and asking "Can I keep him? He's soft and he doesn't shed and I think he likes me…"

Izumi Curtis looked down at him, her expression suited better to a moment of extreme constipation. "Are you finished?"

Ed's eyes widened, shoving Mustang away and leaping up to gather what he had dropped. "Yes ma'am!"

The laughter stopped, turning into contemplative silence again as the Fullmetal Alchemist scrambled to obey. Tim Marco, towards the back, gave Ed an oddly understanding look before Riza hid her toothy grin. (This made Ed question his sanity for a moment. Then he had other things to worry about, like his skin.)

Mustang was not happy about this new development, but he stood up and turned his back on Izumi, sniffing. Ed thought if Roy had a tail it would have thrashed.

"One thing you were never good at was being ignored, showy bastard," Ed muttered behind his many cases. The silence stretched out the rest of the walk to the butcher shop, leaving Ed wishing he had been able to run.

* * *

As soon as they entered the house behind the shop, Izumi became a whirlwind of activity. She ordered Mason, Sig and of course Edward about easily, telling them where to put their guests, bring food in from the pantry to make for supper and Ed- stop your cat!

Mustang, drawn by the smells, had edged his way to butcher shop and particularly in the direction of the fish counter.

"Hey! Kitty bastard, what are you doing?"

This prompted an innocent expression and the decision to jump nonchalantly on to the kitchen table and settle comfortably.

"I do not think that becoming a chimera has changed him all that much," Riza idly commented. Marco, behind her, was holding in his hysterical laughter at the sight.

Ed missed the odd expression that passed between Izumi and Sig, and Mason gestured for Hawkeye and Marco to follow him upstairs.

"Edward, go get my easy cooking cookbook."

Gulping, Ed did so.

"This is a large group so it will be a bit crowded," Mason said by way of conversation, leading the two adults away. Riza cast Ed one last look- she had to have sensed there was a reason for this- but he smiled and shrugged sheepishly. Ed knew he deserved the beating that he had coming.

"All right. Can you get your- friend- to stay inside?" Izumi asked, walking up to him. Her face was expressionless, but Mustang seemed to know she was speaking about him. His eyes were wide, looking back and forth between Ed and Izumi if not truly able to understand the words.

"Hell, I could never tell him what to do when he was fully human," Ed muttered, backing away from the person on the table. "Kitty bastard- uh…" He had a flash of insight.

"You come down here right now and follow me outside where you can keep me out of trouble because you're an overconfident, oversexed, fucking bastard asshole who sends me off on suicidal missions because you are a lazy morally bankrupt ass with a god complex!"

He hoped the redundancy got his point across.

And here Ed was reminded of every single reason why he had disliked the man, who sank back against the wood planks of the table and stretched out, laying his head on his arm and rolling over. His body language said he was miffed, and was hiding a bit of hurt from Ed's lack of attention. Besides, didn't Ed know you never told a cat what to do?

That was _exactly_ what Ed had in mind. He smiled, feeling mostly smug about manipulating Mustang for once. His stomach twisted a bit at the droop to the other's frame, but Ed didn't want to share the beating. Mustang had shown a protective streak that his gut told him would only get them both in worse trouble.

Sighing, he turned, and saw Izumi next to him with her arms crossed across her chest.

"All right now, Ed…"

He just hoped that Sig would have some ice or meat to put on his bruises later.

* * *

"You joined the State Alchemists." It was not a question.

Ed nodded, swallowing down his guilt. He had made his decision; he would stick with it. He would also stick with his decision to leave the military.

_Woosh_

Ed felt the incredible sensation of flight- before he collided with the damp earth he had been walking on. His teacher had moved too quickly for him to stop her- not that he would have- and thrown him.

"Your left leg is automail. Your steps sound differently. Did you think I wouldn't notice? So is your arm. The rumors say your brother goes around in a suit of armor- one far larger than he ever could have grown." She was staring down at him, and Ed's stomach twisted at her frown of disappointment.

"You did the two things that disgust me the most," she said quietly, cracking her knuckles in disgust at him… and maybe something else. "You sold yourself out-"

Ed took a deep breath to counter.

"And you performed human transmutation."

His lungs locked, his rebuttal frozen in place- he nodded instead. "Al tried to talk me out of it. But… but we just wanted her back." He wanted to plead with her, but there was no excuse for what he did. He did his best to piss her off…

"And it cost you your arm and leg." There was a kick to his ribs. "How could you be so stupid?"

Ed shut his eyes, rolling over to protect his ribs and waited for more blows to rain down. There was a pause, and two more kicks… then she stopped.

"Now tell me what happened."

Edward looked up through his fingers. His teacher blotted out the light, hovering over him before she squatted down beside him. Her eyes were familiar- this time looking like she did when she had taped him and his brother back together after a rough sparring lesson. They were kind eyes, like his mother's when he had misbehaved and she wanted to bring home the lesson learned.

Oh yes, he had learned his lesson.

Opening his mouth, Edward licked his lips, and began to tell the story of the past five, maybe six, years.

The words came haltingly at first. Telling of his mother's sickness and death and her begging to see her husband again was painful. He told her how two little boys had wanted nothing more for her to get better. About doing something he had never wanted, trying to find his father… and the bastard had yet to return.

Yet once the words started, they didn't want to stop. They started to trickle, then flow, then pour as he confessed his decision to bring his mother back, to finding Izumi Curtis and begging her to be their teacher. After that there was their training, then going home; and the final, fateful night when they had attempted to break the last taboo in science.

He agonized over his description of what happened to Al, his guilt at that one moment of hope, that maybe they had _succeeded_ and that maybe it was worth giving up what they had lost… He told of the horror of what he had seen and his guts rebelling at what they had made. Then he whispered of his desperate wish to bring Al back, pulling his soul from the Gate and the loss of his arm.

The night had been filled with hellish light and cold rain. That tickled Ed's memory, but he had other things to think about.

The introduction of Mustang went awkwardly. Explaining that the jaguar-chimera had been a State Alchemist and the one to recruit him was not easy. He didn't want his teacher to believe it had been anything but his own choice- from her expression he thought she would have words to say later.

His choice to take automail, and the fire that Mustang's hope had lit, came out in a rush as he tried to get through the tale of the exams; they inevitably led to Nina's story and what she had become and her unfair fate.

During the story, he didn't realize he was adding things like "Mustang said" or "He had the weirdest look on his face when-." It inevitably led to the short jokes, to people in the office, to the years he had spent as a dog of the military. Then he added the fact that Mustang liked to lead him around by the nose; but that it was because he was trying to help them find a way to the Philosopher's Stone that did not involve the same path as the military. The constant one upping, the jerking of each other's chain…

Then there was another moment of storm, and walking in to see his nemesis haunted by a past he had never thought existed.

It had shaken Ed to see his tormentor as a human being. He didn't know how he could convey that with his words, as he didn't have them all himself. So he resorted to lots of wide hand gestures. This led to their discovery of Marco and the train, and the foundations of his world being shaken again at the newspaper article declaring Mustang's death.

The rescue attempt, the false creature pretending to be the man who held such an important, if confused, part of his heart, went on for several minutes because it involved the horrors of Lab 5.

Eventually, with his voice scratchy and hoarse from overuse, he wound down to his departure from Al, and his guilt, and Al making the choice for him. They had separated, after five years of being constantly together. Ed going to restore the person he had become… fond of, and Al going with the scarred man to see if they could discover the meaning of the marks on his arm.

The words ran dry, emptying him out and leaving his heart sore from overuse. Looking up, he saw that the sun was set, and his teacher had not moved.

"You stupid child."

There was a fist to his face, knocking him on his rear before her arms opened, offering her strong shoulders and warm chest.

The confession had made him feel clean for the first time, but the tears that started down his face eased the pain.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, burying his face in her shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I- was so stupid… I never thought-"

"Shhhh… Ed, you were a child. Children don't see the world as adults do, they don't have to."

"I'm sorry…"

Her hands went to his hair, petting him softly, and Ed swallowed his sigh. He wished it was… someone else. There was a wordless moment as his sobs got louder, covering up the soft footsteps.

Another hand joined hers, lightly clawed and catching in the twists of his braid, unraveling it quickly. The hum that accompanied it made him sob all the harder. The guilt he had held on drained out; it left him exhausted. Yet he found forgiveness, in the hum and the warm arms. Now he if he could put things right…

"About your, ah, friend," Izumi said quietly, looking over Ed's shoulder to the man standing beside her. The spots were visible under the collar of his shirt, a pointed reminder that he was no longer human. "What exactly do you feel for him?"

Ed looked at Izumi, then at Mustang, opening and shutting his mouth several times. He finally looked away.

"Ed, he's what, twice your age?" She looked extremely concerned. "And… your mother died before she told you… a lot of things." Now her tone turned very awkward. "You realize that this is about as taboo as human transmutation…"

There were a few things in Ed's life that had surprised him. As a scientist, he believed in the natural laws and that everything could be understood. Yet chaos had a way of creeping in to his life- things like his incomplete human transmutation theory, things like his own hormones and that his little brother knew he was gay before he did…

Now his teacher was trying to give him The Talk.

The Talk was something he had missed out on, though Winry had told him about hers from Granny Pinako when she had started her monthlies. It was before she became embarrassed by it. After a while she stopped talking about it entirely. Ed, who had firmly believed that Winry was an honorary boy, hadn't understood for the longest time.

"Uh- Teacher…"

"Well, you realize that your body does undergo changes at this age. More to the point, anyone you find attractive will fascinate you…"

"Teacher?"

She wore the same strained expression from earlier. Rather like she was constipated and trying to hide it.

"Now, I am not your mother, and I'll have Sig explain the mechanics of safe sex later, but you know that it can make things extremely complicated. Even, since you are both men, there is no chance of pregnancy; sex does add a level of intimacy to a relationship. You also realize that he is-"

"Teacher, I don't even know if he likes me like that!" He ignored the man's hands in his hair, falling on his behind and waving his arms. It disturbed Mustang, who grunted in annoyance. "And who asked you?" he snarled, glaring at the man. "And why are you here anyways?"

"He's been here nearly the entire time," Izumi answered, face softening. "Do you really like him, Ed? Is he worth it? You don't know if you'll ever be able to repair his shattered mind."

_Shattered._ It tickled him a little more this time.

Mustang sat down next to him, looking at Ed intently, the last of the light dying against his hair and face. There was no cat expression this time. It was Mustang- looking beaten and worn, like he had after their fight. It was just him, and no one else.

"Yeah… I do. Teacher, he's a pain in the ass, but he did it because he wanted us to find what we were looking for, just not the Stone. I do know he's not lost, he's in there." His tone was firm, before it dropped to softness. "And- yeah, I like him." That was embarrassing to admit to anyone. "He's a sexy bastard."

"Ed," she said, clearly beginning a lecture, when he cut her off.

"Teacher, I want to help him, because I want to. Even if he doesn't care back, he's a person I want to help anyways." He looked at Mustang. "He's this way because he wanted to protect me- protect us. I don't want that to go to waste. Equivalent exchange… and like I said, I want this."

Izumi stood up, looking down at him, closing her eyes briefly. "Ed, you can't use automail to replace your heart."

Ed's shoulders twitched, looking at Mustang and Izumi and back, before looking up at Mustang's tired face. "I don't know. I have a very good mechanic…"

_Crack_

"That was the stupidest line I've ever heard!" Teacher roared.

It was almost loud enough to get through the ringing in Ed's ears.

* * *

The sun had died long before the three returned to the butcher shop.

"What are your plans now, Edward?" Teacher asked, eying Mustang and Ed out of the corner of her eye.

"We're on the run from the military- or whoever was actually running Lab 5. I never told anyone where I learned alchemy so I don't think they came here after me… Teacher, I came here to ask you if you knew anything about the Philosopher's Stone, or… how to fix a broken mind. They were trying to deconstruct it, like how matter is deconstructed with any alchemic process." He looked up at her earnestly. "Matter cannot be created or destroyed- so it has to still exist in some form, even as raw materials. Do you have any idea-"

She rubbed the back of her neck, not looking at him. "We'll talk about that in the morning, Ed. I imagine you will need a bath and to get patched up."

Edward winced at her tone. So he had a busted lip and few bruises? So… okay, he had more than a few bruises. He didn't think his ribs were broken but yeah, he was breathing shallowly. He could still walk, couldn't he?

A yawn interrupted his thoughts, making him look up in time to see those quite impressive teeth in Mustang's mouth.

"You need to take care of your pet, too."

Ed smacked his face, groaning, but she had taken the moment to disappear. Looking at Mustang, he sighed. "Come on. You are not my pet."

His kitty bastard grunted, making a smile flicker of Ed's face. "Was that a yes or a no?"

No cat ever gave anyone a straight answer. It was a lesson Ed had known, but his Colonel was much the same way.

No answer once again. Shrugging, Ed took Mustang's hand, leading him in the door. The main living area was deserted- though a simple meal had been left on the table for them.

"Hey, kitty-"

Mustang didn't wait- he leapt up on the table, picking up a bowl and smelling it, inspecting it carefully before deeming it edible. Then he proceeded to wallow.

"Kitty! Kitty bastard, what the hell are you _doing?_" It was too late. Mustang had successfully sunk his hands into the bowl of stew and was picking out the meat, licking his hands for gravy. "That's not how you treat stew! Okay, did that when I was little but dammit-"

Not content to listen, Mustang planted his face in the bowl.

"That's ENOUGH! Come on- we're getting a bath!"

* * *

"I will hold this over your head for the rest of your life, Colonel," Ed began, dragging Mustang to the bathroom of the Curtis house. "Any time you even consider calling me short again I will bring up you jumping on the table and making a mess! Dammit!"

The last time that Mustang had been bathed- well, the entire party, for that matter- had been when they left the safe house. Then it had been Maes and Havoc doing the honors. Ed didn't think they had encountered any trouble, but if Mustang took it into his head to fight him… Ed shuddered.

"Come on…"

The bathing room in the Curtis house was a simple one- a massive claw footed tub, a drain in the floor and a shower on gray stone. A stool sat near the drain, and Ed walked past it to start filling up the tub.

"All right, let's get those clothes- off-"

Ed stopped. Then he flushed the color of his coat, because it suddenly occurred to him that he was going to be seeing Roy Mustang naked. And he was going to see Ed naked as well.

Steam did its best to come out of his ears from the heat of the blush as his thoughts sputtered to a stop.

_Roy Mustang- naked- me- _

One of Ed's great talents was making things up as he went along- that included getting the clothes off an oblivious Roy Mustang. His flesh hand shook a little- the automail was too heavy to shake- as he unfastened the button down, peeling it off the other man's body and noting the stew broth all over it.

_We'll need-_

Thoughts once again halted, as the shirt came off, and Ed took a deep breath. He told himself they were both men, that there would be nothing there he had never seen before; except for the spots.

The difference that had been wrought by the chimera making process pulled his scientific reason out of the swamp of hormones. Barely; He told himself he could ignore his hardening penis long enough to… uh… study. Yeah, study.

Taking his pants off was another thing entirely… Ed's eyes glazed over as he did that; more out of shock that he was actually doing it than anything else. He swallowed…

He tried to take a step back, look at Mustang with some detachment. It was just a bath. It wasn't like he was in any kind of shape for anything else. Right?

His eyes flicked up and down Mustang's body, trying not to sputter. His skin was pale- even paler were the old scars- burns, a knife? He didn't know… there were more recent injuries, too. Ones he probably got while in captivity.

Damn, there went the hard-on.

"I'm sorry, Colonel," he said softly, sitting Mustang on a stool to wash his larger body off. "I should have been there to protect you. Seems I'm not good at helping anyone. Even Al ran off."

The rough cloth slid over Mustang's skin, leaving soap and taking off the grime. "Why you?" He kept on washing, looking at the pattern of rosette spots as they darkened and faded over his back and shoulders. "Why did I have to… for you? Cause you're still an ass."

Mustang lifted his head, tilting it to the side and closing his eyes in pleasure.

"Huh. I thought cats didn't like water…"

Ed sighed, once again noting the difference, subtle though they were, in his skeleton and muscles. He let his fingers follow the curve of Mustang's shoulder, down his arm, stopping with the scrubbing and carefully moving the joints to see how they worked. Tucker could never have done such a good job… Maybe it was Marco's research? He didn't know.

"I'm sort of grateful for that fake though," he told Mustang- more thinking out loud than really talking to him. "At least he got me to realize it was you I wanted a kiss from." Dammit, he could feel the heat rising again to his cheeks in embarrassment. The man no longer smelled of his cologne, like he had during that forever ago in his office. He did smell like himself.

Mustang cracked open his eyes to watch Ed's inspection, vaguely curious as Ed left Mustang's arm. He walked his fingers back up Mustang's back, rubbing his neck at the base of his hair. He did not protest the touch- in fact, he arched in to it. Mustang's expression became blissful.

Ed's heart and stomach lurched. His hands jerked away.

"Bath- I need a bath-"

He shimmied out of his clothes like they were greased, and found the shower head to douse himself with cold water. "It's not fair- why do you have to be so pretty?" Edward hissed. He could still feel Mustang's eyes on him, blank and unreadable. The washrag was quickly soaped and he ran it over his body- and jumped when he realized he still had his erection.

"Why won't you cooperate?" he asked his dick, which did not answer but got harder knowing that Mustang was still looking at him. "He's not going to respond, there's no reason for him to want me and I really don't want him as a mindless-"

He turned to the wall so he could argue with his anatomy in semi-privacy. He didn't notice Mustang look thoughtful, getting to his feet. Edward did notice when the washcloth was taken from him, and his back was very carefully scrubbed.

Ed's eyes bulged from their sockets, looking up over his shoulder.

"Mustang?"

There was no answer, save the intense look on Mustang's face as he continued to wash him. It made the words stick in Ed's throat and his chest flutter. His mind tried to rationalize- _he's just returning the favor, he's a cat, he believes I need a bath too-_

His dick did not agree, wanting Mustang's attention as the cloth moved lower, over his ass and to his legs. The soft hum was back; was it his imagination, or was there a speculative edge to it? Ed's fingers dug into the stone wall as he peeked over his shoulder at Mustang.

Still there, still washing and still… Ed shivered when the cloth moved from his back over his shoulder and on to his chest.

What to do- what to do- okay, he knew what his dick wanted to do. It wanted his hand down there _now_.

Or Mustang's; it wasn't going to discriminate.

"Colonel," he whispered, leaning into him, jumping a little when he felt Mustang's chest against his back. "Do you know what you're doing?"

He felt Mustang move against him, making a strange yowl in the back of his throat. It reminded him of something- reminded him that this wasn't Mustang. At least, not completely. He leaned away, pressing his arm against the stone, and his face against that.

"Dammit!" He twisted away, looking at the mindless thing. He knew Mustang was there- but cats were randy, weren't they?

Mustang had not moved, his eyes shaded, but Ed licked his lips at the other man's beginning arousal. Hell… how far would he let this go?

"Mustang," he murmured, and the man slid closer again, leaning down and dragging his nose, then his tongue, against Edward's neck. _Oh damn- _

His cock enthusiastically responded, throbbing, while Ed went weak in the knees. Oh yes, he enjoyed this- but he wanted-

Closing his eyes, he told himself to get it over with quickly, and grabbed the shower head. He didn't want to do this with a man who couldn't even say his name.

It made Mustang jump back, hissing in surprise and discomfort as the cold water hit him in the face and body. It ran over Ed, making him lose his erection and he bit his bottom lip.

"Yeah, I don't like it either. But you'll thank me later." Then it occurred to him that was one of the adult things people always ranted about. "And maybe some day we'll get to do this for real."

The offended glare he received did not mollify him at all. Now they were both clean… and a hot soak would be nice but he didn't want to risk his cock taking over his thinking again.

Hell, he was still tempted now. Mustang wet was beautiful.

"Come on, let's go," he murmured. There were a few towels already there. Slinging one around his waist, he dried himself and bit his cheek while he did the same for Mustang.

He hoped they were in different bedrooms. He wanted to jerk off in quiet later.

To be continued

A/N: Next chapter, Al and Scar. My life has been unpleasant lately, so I wasn't able to get much writing done. I hope to write faster, but I hope the long chapter helps.


	15. Chapter 15

**Departure XV**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairing: Roy and Ed, others mentioned

Summary: During his search for the Philosopher's Stone, Edward sees a part of Mustang he never imagined, and sees how far he would go to protect the Elric brothers.

Warnings: Shonen-ai, divergence from episode 13, chimera!Roy, and possible OOC, spoilers for chapter 58 of the manga.

"_Don't look."_

He didn't. He could hear the soft murmurs laughter coming from all around, the voices and the hands that were tearing at him, trying to pull him inside.

"_You didn't come here for a trade- don't look."_

Two voices- speaking coherently, as he was pulled forcibly from the hands that plucked and caressed and violated him, wanting to give him knowledge he had no desire to possess.

"_Turn around, and you can open your eyes."_

The scarred man did so, hearing the massive doors creak to a close behind him, and he cautiously peeked, feeling the terror recede.

There were two figures in front of him- one was dressed in pieces of the familiar attire of Amestris military. He was somehow transparent, standing amidst a pile of broken glass. He, like the scarred man, was facing away from That behind them.

The other person did look at the Gate, without fear, but without comprehension, either. The scarred man paused, staring at him. A boy; nude, hair long and ragged as if it had not seen a pair of scissors in years, so thin that his bones jutted unhealthily from his skin. He seemed familiar- they both did, actually.

"_I never look behind me,"_ the man said, patting the scarred man's shoulder. "_I won't until I have to."_

"_I was inside once- thank you for helping me step outside,"_ the boy said, smiling sweetly. "_Since I have been waiting for my soul you are the first two I have met._"

"_Who are you? What's going on here?"_ he asked, utterly confused. He had never had a dream like this one before- in his dreams hells involved a brother-who-was-not and a pale man making things explode. It was dark and he could smell the desert in those dreams… This did not feel like a dream.

"_You're nowhere,"_ the soldier answered. "_I've been here for a while. You brought the boy out with you. It was hard to do that with your eyes closed, but you did it."_

It made no sense to him at all.

"_I was inside the Gate,"_ the boy told him. "_This is where the Gate is. There's not much else you can say about it."_ His tone was comically wry. "_You are the person my soul is looking for. You should wake up now- I'm waiting for you."_

For some reason it made sense. Wait, it didn't.

"_Alphonse… Elric?"_

_

* * *

_

Red eyes opened, blearily taking in the ragged cloth walls and ceiling of the tent that had housed him for the past several weeks.

"Oh good! You're awake!"

For a moment, he thought he was still dreaming; it was the same voice as the boy… Blinking, he focused on the gray shadow in front of him. Then he looked up- and up-

"Alphonse Elric," he said by way of greeting.

"Hi! I'm glad you're awake!" It was amazing how much emotion a suit of armor could display. It left the scarred man nonplussed; he was a strange child. "How are you doing, Mister- uh- Mister-"

The scarred man grunted, lifting an eyebrow. Part of him had not expected the boy to return after he had left with his brother in that chaos. The rest of him had not expected to survive.

"Well, uh… Mister. I came back like I promised." The empty suit of armor straightened, almost like he was coming to attention. "I promised I'd help you with your arm and I will."

The scarred man looked down at his arm, at the writhing black marks and the alchemy they symbolized. The final curse and last present his brother could give him. He felt such… ambiguous emotions when he looked at it. He reveled in that he was able to use it to deliver the justice so long done without… but it was _alchemy_. From his poor exiled… brother.

"Uh… are you okay?"

The scarred man was not one to often show emotions, but he could feel the scowl on his face as he looked down at his cursed right arm.

"You were truly sincere in your decision to accompany me?" he asked, making a conscious effort to smooth the wrinkles on his face.

He couldn't hear breathing, but he knew when a person was stealing themselves against something unpleasant. "Yes, I am. I'll need to know what you do though- because if I don't, I have no place to begin investigating." He had to admire the child's bravery as he gently picked up his hand, to examine the markings. "I'm not familiar with this kind of transmutation circle. How did you get it? Why is it on your arm?"

Ah, the boy was acting like a good scientist. Like his brother- like both their brothers, he was asking questions.

He pondered, as Alphonse continued to examine him, the reasons for accepting this deal with the boy.

Part of it was the reason he had not killed Fullmetal three years ago when they had first met. He had claimed to no longer be a State Alchemist- which was a lie- but he did not wish to take the life of a foolish child. Yet there was truth this time, as they were being hunted by the State now. Flame and Fullmetal were truly no more.

"It was a present from my brother," the scarred man answered, closing his eyes. "The last thing he could give me, to save my life."

Alphonse Elric paused.

"Please… tell me about it."

* * *

Ed never did like dreaming about the Gate.

It was always the same, but it was always different. The weight of the many eyes on him made it hard to breathe. He knew the actual doors separated him from the eyes but they were still there.

Still there… Like Mustang.

Mustang had not really moved, sitting before the Gate and looking at the shards before him. It took Ed several moments to remember his last dream- the one where Mustang had called them "memories".

"_Is this some kind of sick joke?" _ he asked, rubbing his head as he slowly approached. "_I don't need to be dreaming about you after all that."_

Well, perhaps it made sense. He had nearly… done something… with that man.

"_I can just see your face though, when you come back,"_ he told the phantasm, sitting before the Gate. "_I'd probably let you kick my ass if I had actually touched you."_

"_You're back?" _ Mustang had apparently decided to take notice of him this time. He was looking up, smiling absently in his direction. And, of course, the attention made his heart lurch. Damn kitty bastard.

"_I guess so."_ He hadn't had train food, had he? Why was he dreaming of weird Mustang instead of sexy-cat-Mustang? He really needed to get off and that fantasy would be really helpful.

The shards were still there, and the man was still trying to touch them- only he seemed more frustrated than before.

"_What's wrong?"_

"_Things are speeding up. I need them back,"_ Mustang answered, sounding on edge. "_I want to know your name."_

"_You don't know who I am? At all?" _

"_No, I don't. You are,"_ he looked up at Ed, eyes almost feverish. "_Special. But I can't find who you are anywhere."_

Edward pondered the mismatched pile, before hunkering down to look at the pieces more closely. There never seemed to be rhyme or reason to them… They were just pieces of glass. He eyed a large, discolored one in curiosity.

"_Maybe I can help you look?"_

Before Mustang could answer, Edward had picked that one up.

* * *

"So, you became a soldier after all."

Edward blinked- he was standing in a room lined with shelves. A library or a study, he didn't know, because the only light came from behind him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a door, which was all that shed light into the dismal room.

The speaker was a scholarly looking man, swathed in decrepit robes. He was skeletal, his face paper white under bleached hair, but his eyes burned holes with their intelligence.

"Yes, Teacher," Edward heard someone say. He tried to identify the speaker- the voice was not his, but the sound had come from the general direction of his face.

If that wasn't strange enough, he realized that he was taller. _Taller;_ as in he was looking at the world from a completely different vantage point

"I thought I would eventually take the state exams and become an alchemist working for my country."

Okay, the voice was definitely coming from his mouth. It wasn't his; he had to fight down panic when he realized that he could not move of his own volition.

"It is still too early for you to learn "Flame Alchemy"…"

Ed internally sputtered. _Flame Alchemy?_ What are we talking about? How did I get here? Why the hell couldn't he break free and ask _what the fuck was going on?_

"It would be a waste to teach someone who would become a dog of the military even the most fundamental concepts of alchemy…"

The words continued to flow without his direction.

"Teacher." Now Ed realized he could feel things, too. There was no reason for him to be feeling anything beyond terror; now he felt shame, some anger, and an earnest desire to make this person understand. "I believe helping the military is helping the people. There are threats coming from all sides- we're need alchemy to protect the people, and we can do that through the military."

Edward was nearly swept away. It felt almost like when he knew Izumi would be shamed of him; this desire to make someone understand _why_.

He could not understand why this man, this person he idolized, staying in this place when he knew how brilliant he was, how useful he could be. Why was he acting like this when he could be living in a mansion and wealthy beyond belief? He hated seeing this man nearly starved.

The emotions were _there,_ but they did not belong to Edward.

"I died a long time ago."

Edward twitched at the man's reasoning- he had perfected his technique, therefore his heart and mind had died. It made little sense to him but to the Other with him, it was terrifying… and both hearts agreed in shock and dismay when blood began to gush from his mouth.

"Teacher!"

There was the oddest expression on the man's face- dying, but there was a small spark of pride there. "I wish I could have taught you… my daughter, she knows all of my research…"

There were more words, but Edward wasn't paying attention, too busy gibbering at being unable to affect the situation. A man was dying, his body was acting and he could not, and the names that had been spoken.

"I'm sorry, Roy… I was so immersed in my research I could do nothing for you…"

"Teacher- get hold of yourself- we'll get you to a doctor- HAWKEYE! Don't die!"

_Hawkeye? Roy?_

It suddenly occurred to him that this wasn't just a strange dream… after all he had picked up one of Mustang's…

* * *

"… memories…"

Morning had crept in the windows. Edward sighed, squinting at the light that stabbed his eyes. Grunting, he tried to roll over-

"EEEHHH?"

And realized he was pinned to the bed by the disgruntled Roy Mustang, who was draped over his feet.

"How the hell did you stay so popular with the girls?" he asked, baring his teeth at the man. "I mean, you tangle yourself with people, you like to sleep in their laps, you like physical contact and-" Here his rant tripped up… because Ed realized he had enjoyed most of this. He had indeed enjoyed having his kitty bastard act… well, snuggly. Guiltily his hand went to his neck, where he had been licked, and shivered.

Mustang's eyebrow's went up and closed his eyes, huffing the air curiously- before whipping his head about to give Ed a strange look.

"What's bothering you now?"

Mustang couldn't answer verbally- but he narrowed his eyes at Ed, and crept towards him. His face was cautious, vaguely confused, as he continued to sniff the air. He closed in on Ed, until he was on his legs… and nearly at his crotch.

Suddenly Edward realized he had been… There was a nice tent under the covers from where he had been thinking about last night's bath. He never had gotten a chance to jack off properly, because Mustang had come into his room nearly as soon as he had gone to bed. This was after he had pointedly closed the door in the man's face.

Edward squeaked.

Mustang looked astonished… still sniffing Edward, but Ed couldn't see how his face had gone from confusion to bemused appreciation. He did see the surprise on the man's face when Edward made a jump out of the bed and left a trail of dust behind him as he ran the bathroom.

This time, he alchemized the door shut.

* * *

When he finally came down from the bathroom, the kitchen was throbbing with noise, orders and squeals of delight.

The Curtis kitchen door was open, and children from the entire neighborhood were running in and out- some with fresh fruit from their family garden, some brought milk, others were setting the large table along the wall.

In the middle was Izumi, yelling orders and maintaining calm in the midst of the warlike chaos that came from her home at mealtimes. Sig was at the stove, carefully frying sausage while she chopped apple slices and hooked her ankle around a toddler to keep him from the oven. Kittens and puppies waited at the door or in arms for scraps while laughter could be heard as a youngster sloshed juice into cups.

Ed's lips curled up at the sight, before plunging into the madness, steadying the jug of juice before looking up to see Mason bringing a plate of eggs to the table. His eyes drifted to the stairs, and to two people standing there with a look of consternation at the contained energy within one room.

Riza Hawkeye was not a motherly type. She seemed nervous at the children, but Tim Marco was smiling openly. He walked down, and was immediately drawn to a child with her pregnant cat.

"Are you all right?" the normally stoic woman asked, looking down at Ed and seeing a few of his bruises.

"Yeah… Teacher's harsh, but she doesn't do more damage than she has to," he said, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I think I deserved my lumps."

Riza's eyes softened. "I believe I heard you cry out in your sleep."

Ed grimaced, eyes darting for Mustang, who had yet to make his appearance. He didn't know if anyone had dressed him yet… Ah, there he was.

He was eying the meat on the table, but had also been distracted by the children, who had pulled the quiet stranger in to the group with them. They were babbling; one showing him something… and of course it was shiny.

He grabbed at it.

This led to a spirited game of keep away that nearly had Ed falling on his ass in laughter, and the softening in Riza's eyes to turn into a faint smile. He was completely focused on the game- like any cat trying to get the patch of sunlight that constantly eluded them. After a while, you knew they had to have figured it out- there was no smell, just movement, but it was so much fun…

"It's been a while since I saw him play. When you have fixed his mind… Do you think he could learn how to play again?"

Ed tilted his head back, to look at the woman. Her words were soft, conflicted. They brought to mind the bizarre dream- after all, Hawkeye wasn't a common name-

"I had the weirdest dream last night," he said, trying to change the conversation. "It was… of something I don't like to dream about, but it turned into something even weirder. I was talking to Mustang- then I was in this room with this old guy. He was saying something about 'flame alchemy' and he was mad at me for becoming a dog of the military. He started coughing up blood… and in my dream I called him Hawkeye."

Riza had picked up a glass of juice and was taking a sip when he said that name- she froze, her hand lowering from her face, eyes wide in surprise. Then they hardened, shuttering quickly and Ed almost thought he imagined it. Almost.

They were all going to have to gather and compare notes soon. Hopefully it would be enough for a start.

In the meanwhile, everyone enjoyed the peaceful maelstrom of breakfast at the Curtis house.

* * *

"We came to you, Teacher, because we wanted to know if you would know anything about fixing a human mind," Edward asked, once the breakfast dishes and scraps had been distributed or eaten. There were never leftovers. "Human alchemy, biological alchemy- I know I've transmuted a human soul, but the mind is the last component. I don't know of anyone having transmuted that before."

The party was arrayed around the table, Ed sitting across from Izumi with Hawkeye and Marco to the left. Mustang was there- but he was not paying attention, eyes fixed curiously off in the distance. He seemed to be contemplating the sounds and smells from the Butcher Shop, manned by Sig and Mason.

Izumi's eye twitched, before closing them briefly. "It was not included in the knowledge you received from That Thing, was it?"

There was nothing else it could have been, and the mere mention of it sent chills down Edward's back. That Thing, the Gateway.

"No… it showed me things I could have never known, but- nothing on the mind. Just the soul."

Her expression was ironic chagrin. "The mind is the intermediary between the soul and body, where memories are formed, stored and accessed. There is little more that can be said about it."

The wrinkles on Dr. Marco's face deepened. "The soul, we could move about with alchemy, but we could not change its basic makeup. It was attempted. A soul is a soul is a soul, no matter where it was- it can evolve, become more profound, but it cannot be change through other means. The mind, however, is constantly in flux. It cannot exist without its memories…" He trailed off, and then looked curious.

"What is 'that thing'?"

Both Izumi and Edward shuddered.

"The Gate; the begin and end of existence. It appeared when I attempted human transmutation all those years ago to bring back my mother."

Izumi held her silence- something confusing because she obviously knew what it was.

"The Gate, I thought… that was only a legend." Surprisingly enough, that came from Riza Hawkeye. Edward blinked at her.

"How would you have heard of it?"

The former officer had traded her juice for a coffee mug, and took a deliberate sip before answering. "My father was an alchemist, Ed. Hawkeye was known for his research into a little known field of alchemy. Flame Alchemy."

_Ker-thunk_

"Wah- what? My dream had a really old guy-"

"Who was talking to Roy about flame alchemy and died, so you said," Riza answered, voice absurdly calm for the subject. "I was surprised." She _had_ blinked, he remembered. "You described his death in surprisingly good detail, considering that the only person present had been Roy."

The other two present swung their heads back and forth, looking interested and baffled by turns.

"You saw his death?"

"Hawkeye? I heard of him…"

Edward was too busy stopping the shudders going down his spine at what Hawkeye had told him. Her gaze was speculative and he flinched away.

"Did Roy ever tell you about his teacher? Where he came from, where he learned alchemy?"

Ed deflated. "No. It never came up." He had never asked. He had never _thought_ to ask. Somehow that made his face burn in embarrassment. Why hadn't he thought to ask?

Riza nodded, like she had expected nothing less. "Did you ever do research into flame alchemy?"

Again, the answer was no.

"So there was no way for you to have known about my father."

Edward swallowed, seeing the strange expression on his teacher's face. "But- it was just a weird dream."

He could feel the eyes on him, from all three others. Izumi's eyes were narrowed in speculation, while Marco's was interested… and Mustang was almost smiling.

_You are finally beginning to understand, kitten._

There was a flicker, and Ed remembered both dreams vividly- the pieces around Mustang's feet, the distant expression, and what he did indeed have.

Izumi, being the kitchen general that she was, fixed Edward with a fierce glare. "Tell us, Edward. Everything."

* * *

Edward tried to describe the dreams- two of them, both of them before the Gate, seeing a man trying to card through his memories for a scrap he could hold on to- and accidentally touching the broken shards.

"That was when it changed so suddenly. The first time… I was looking at our house. I felt… I felt very ambiguous." He tried to pin down the emotions from that moment, the ones that he had been in too much shock to analyze. "It was raining, and I was uncomfortable. I didn't like rain very much… and I was thinking about a little girl." There were other things there, things that he couldn't quite grasp because he had no context for them. "That she deserved to do it… whatever that was."

He didn't remember much of what he had seen; that was a good thing.

Riza took a deep breath, and nodded, again as if she had expected this. Izumi's hand was over her mouth, hiding her thoughtful frown.

"Any idea what might have caused this?"

Edward wanted to protest, but he had at least an indication that this was not just a dream; he was able to recognize a hypothesis in the making. The Gate was as it always was, but Mustang was not. He had learned something that only Mustang would know, from something that had occurred twice before.

"No, no clue at all. I don't know what makes the Gate appear or why I would see it when I was asleep. I know Al's soul was there though- maybe I was talking to Mustang's soul. The mind is what binds it to the body, after all…"

Izumi nodded. "But we need to test this, Ed. It's a working hypothesis but we need to test it- it only takes once to disprove it."

"I've had dreams about that thing for years, Teacher- I don't know why I would have dreamt about Mustang being there now. We have to isolate the factors involved," he protested.

"What was different about these last times?" Marco asked, pulling out a notebook. It seemed that the habits of an alchemist would never die. Ed fished out one of his own, and Teacher did the same. Alchemists the world over were predictable creatures.

"The first time was on the train. We had gone to sleep. Mustang had turned my legs numb," he grunted at the memory. "I thought the dream had been caused by bad train food."

"And the second?"

Ed felt an embarrassed flush creep up his neck, turning his ears and cheeks red. "Uh, after I got a bath and went to bed."

"And 'kitty bastard'?" Izumi's face was inscrutable.

The comment made Ed drop his face into his hands and mumble something incoherent.

"I didn't hear that," Riza said, her face like stone. Ed knew she had to be smiling on the inside, she just had to be.

"I said he snuck into my room."

"So you're sleeping with the Colonel?" Riza was smirking now. Just the vaguest hint- but it was still a smirk. Edward glared, but he noticed her eyes flick to the man she followed, and he had to relax.

"It's not my fault!"

Riza's expression didn't change, but she also backed down.

"Edward… his presence was the factor in common both times?" His teacher was clearly considering this option. Edward nodded, because… well, perhaps this was it. "I slept next to him when Mustang was rescued… But not really touching him." He chewed on his lip a bit. "Why would that affect me seeing him?"

There was a round of shrugging from about the table. "Your own mind and soul seem to be drawn to the Gate," Izumi interjected. "It had you once… that thing does not like to let people go."

Ed twitched. "And since his mind is broken, his soul is in a state of limbo. There's no reason for it to be anywhere else."

Izumi nodded, and Marco frowned. "The question then remains- how do you fix those memories back to where they should go?"

"I don't know yet." Ed's eyes drifted to Mustang, who was now looking at a window at a squirrel. He didn't seem to be paying any attention to the discussion behind him, but there was a subtle flinch when Edward said his name.

Well, he was a scientist. From the first dream, he recalled Mustang saying he knew two things.

"Hey, kitty bastard."

A flinch; though from the set of his shoulders Edward thought he knew that was what Ed called him, and it was dismissed.

"Roy," he said, experimentally. There was a twitch in his direction, and the others went silent to observe.

"Roy Mustang," Edward repeated, eyes fixed on the dark man. Slowly he turned, eyes fluttering briefly, bemused, as if he had been reminded of something important he had not meant to forget. Then he nodded. It was the most human gesture anyone had seen from him in days.

"You are Roy Mustang, you know that, right?"

Another nod.

"I'm Edward Elric."

Astonishment lit Mustang's face, and a true smile followed it. It was one of the most beautiful things Edward had ever seen… too bad that squirrel suddenly made a run underneath the shop window, distracting Mustang from his human thoughts. The man was utterly enraged that it would run- he made a dash for the door.

"Kitty bastard! DAMN! Come back here!"

* * *

Ed never did like dreaming about the Gate.

It was always the same, but it was always different. The weight of the many eyes on him made it hard to breathe. He knew the actual doors separated him from the eyes but they were still there.

Still there… Like Mustang.

Only this time, he was looking for him.

"_I know your name now," _Roy said, looking at him. He seemed content- which was a pleasant change from the apathy and frustration of earlier. "_I kept it close so I wouldn't lose it."_

Edward nodded… he tried to remember why it was important that he care. Oh yes- he was dreaming. He was dreaming about Mustang and the Gate again. This time, though, he wanted to do something about it.

Those shards, though… they were a mess.

"_Mustang- you said you couldn't grab hold of your memories?"_ Ed asked, looking at the pile.

He nodded, and Ed almost reached out to touch one again. Then he remembered the events of the last two times.

Well… uh, most of them were in a pile. The ones that needed to be gathered the most were the outlying ones, right? Maybe… maybe if he picked those up, with his automail hand…?

"_No, I could not. I can sometimes touch them, but not long enough."_

Nice and cryptic. Good to know that the soul was truly immutable. Edward sighed, and noticed the glittering pieces that were the furthest away. Walking towards one, he knelt to pick it up-

* * *

He was sitting at a desk with a blond girl by his side- Ed tried to open his mouth. She looked somewhat like Winry, but-

"That's why you have to be the King, stupid. You can't be a prince if I'm your knight," the girl explained patiently. "I can't rescue a prince. They don't need it."

"Why do I need to be rescued?"

The girl couldn't have been older than five, with a towel tied around her neck and a broken shovel handle in her belt. "Because you're the king, of course! You said you'd play with me! We're playing knights and dragons and since I want to rescue you, you have to be the king!"

The voice was childishly high, but Edward thought he knew it; the emotions flooding through him were familiar enough. It was similar to when he and Al had been wrangled into playing mechanic shop with Winry and her dolls.

"Can't I go read?" he heard himself whine. "I was reading before you pulled me out here, Riza."

"Well, you can read because the evil dragon has enchanted you and I have to defeat it before I can get you out," she explained patiently. "King Roy must be saved!" She pulled her shovel handle from her belt, and posed heroically. Then she turned on an innocuous lamp stand.

"To the death!"

* * *

It shone briefly in his hand, the piece of memory that Edward had gathered..

It was smaller than the last one he had touched, clearer and brighter, the shape simple. It belied two things; that it had still captured him with its strength, and that he had indeed picked it up. He lifted it up, holding it so that he could see it more clearly in the directionless light.

He would have to find them all. Every little piece…

"_You're lucky that I love you, bastard,_" Edward whispered in exhaustion, unthinking of the meaning or consequences. Mustang turned to him, completely unfazed.

"_I know."_

To be continued.


	16. Chapter 16

**Departure XVI **

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Roy and Ed, possible Scar/Al and others mentioned

Warnings: Shonen-ai, divergence from episode 13, chimera!Roy, spoilers for manga chapter 58.

Summary: During the course of his search for the Stone, Edward finds a scar on the heart of Roy Mustang, and realizes exactly how far the man would go to protect him.

"Uh- uh- Mister-"

The scarred man turned, slightly irritated that the armored boy was struggling with something,

It had been several days since he had awakened, and it had been difficult to decide how much he could reveal to Alphonse Elric, and how much to keep to himself. His shame and guilt still existed- for using his brother's gift, for being related to a heretic alchemist, to… to other things that were so deeply painful that he could not bring them to light.

Then there was that homunculus…

"Yes, Alphonse Elric?"

"Mister… I need to call you something. Even if it's not your name," Alphonse said, shuffling from foot to foot. His body rattled, squeaking faintly. "I just don't like calling you Mister."

One of the scarred man's eyebrows went up.

Alphonse gave the impression of fidgeting even more. "Can I call you something? Anything? 'Hey you' bothers me, and so does 'Mister'… You have that scar on your face- Could I call you Mr. X?"

The scarred man's eyebrow twitched. "Mr. X?"

"Well, how about-"

"Scar. You can call me Scar, if you really insist."

Alphonse suddenly perked up, acting like he had been given a great gift. "All right! It's nice to meet you, Mr. Scar!"

Somehow Scar had to wonder if this was not some kind of mistake.

* * *

"All war is deception. Think your enemy has a weakness and it becomes his strength; remember that."

Fullmetal's eyes blazed in defiance and anger- he knew he had lost, because he had misread his opponent.

"I don't need your fucking lectures," Fullmetal hissed. "Just finish me off."

_Darkness rubble chaos _he's terrified_ gun standoff- _

_ -Same age- _

_ Where the hell did he come from? Dammit, I thought I gave them time to run!_

Reality ceased to exist as memory rose up to seize him.

_ I saw the gun first, not the boy- dammit, all they have are boys to fight- don't move, DON'T MOVE- don't shoot I don't want to- _

_ NO! _

His world was filled with the smell of charred pork and searing light as he reacted like he was trained- attack first, think later. He was lost, in the anger and the guilt, and he couldn't find his way out again…

Then there was a cold hand pressing against his chest, and he realized the eyes were gold, not red. The smell of burning had come from the ripped slag of the parade grounds. No bodies, no death, no fresh guilt of another murder on his head. He was here… not there.

Edward's eyes were filled with an emotion he had no desire to see on Fullmetal's face, at least not for him. He couldn't collect himself fast enough. The Fuhrer was talking and Gran was there, giving him that _look_ again. The one that made him want to go scald himself in the shower and rip his skin off to clean it. The man had _seen._ Basque Gran knew that he was a broken man and it was only a matter of time before he moved.

He had to get Ed and Al out of there; giving him the information on Marco would do the trick. His people… they were below him. He could possibly make a smokescreen… Dammit. He would make sure they were safe. If he fell, he would fall alone.

Edward… Not the same child. Not a child at all.

"Thank you for the good match, Fullmetal," he rasped, putting his hand on the younger alchemist's shoulder. His eyes caught Edward's, and he felt a strange wistfulness fill him. They were looking at him with concern, with protectiveness, and he wished that he had gotten to know Fullmetal better. Not a child anymore, but he would like to see the man Ed would have become.

He doubted he would have the chance.

* * *

Morning had arrived, but not soon enough for Edward to escape.

He awoke, shivering uncontrollably and unconsciously moving closer to the body next to him, noticing that his pillow was damp. His insides felt shredded. The leftover emotions from that last memory clung to him, making him ache.

The first memory had been a playful, childish moment. The shard had been clear and rounded. The second, after that, had been less so, opaque with a jagged side. The last…

Edward had met himself in Mustang's memory. It had been damn weird, but it had also completely pulled him inside. He had no idea who he really was; he had been _Mustang_, and all it entailed. He knew what it felt like to make fire fall like rain. He could remember Mustang's amusement at Edward's ranting- the man thought it was _cute._ He had felt Roy's wary respect for Ed's abilities. All of it, he had seen the entire thing, from the beginning of the assessment to the end.

Now he knew what it felt like to be hunted by a memory and trapped in its jaws before being tossed like a doll.

He opened his eyes to look at the shoulder of the man wrapped around him.

Wait.

Yes, he had let Mustang sleep in the same bed last night. That was part of the experiment, to see if he could deliberately cause one of those dreams. It had been a smashing success. Not only had he caused the dreams, he had gotten three of the memories collected. Now he knew what was going on in Mustang's head… now he knew what it felt like to know you were a broken man.

He almost reached out to touch Mustang's sleeping face, when he realized that he was lying nearly on top of the man.

He tried valiantly to hyperventilate before remembering he was still dressed. So was Mustang, but the older man's arms were curled around him, and Edward had to swallow his nerves. He wasn't exactly embarrassed… It just felt very strange to be held. It helped him shake off the effects of the dream, which was certainly not unpleasant. The man was clean, smelling like soap and his own self. Ed could hear his breathing, his heart, peaceful and slow in whatever dreams still held him. He had seen Mustang smirking, angry, lost… but peace made him look young and carefree. Edward wished he could see that look more often.

Ed let himself relax, ear pressed to Mustang's chest, looking up at him and turning the dream memories over in his mind. The kindest memory had been clear and dull, but the others had been sharp enough to slice him. So- from observation, was there a pattern? Yes, there was. He had seen that there was a definite progression from "good memory" to "bad memory". He had managed to gather them. Now… now what?

Frustration made him roll off Mustang, sitting up and running his fingers through his hair. Just putting the memories in the pile had not been enough to mend them. He had to get them back together and back in place… how?

A low, sleepy growl at being disturbed interrupted his thoughts, bringing Edward's attention back to his bedmate. Mustang's eyes had cut open, and his bottom lip was curved in a sleepy pout; it was the most ridiculous thing Ed had ever seen in his life. Then man rolled to his side, pressing his head into the pillow and curling up with a huff.

Edward fidgeted. The nonverbal guilt trip he was laying was starting to work, not just because of waking him.

"I really don't _want_ to see your memories," Ed explained. He felt vaguely shamed, almost like a voyeur. What if he saw something really, really personal? Geeze… He knew Mustang's reputation…

He sighed, hunkering down and gently stroking his real hand through Mustang's hair. His thoughts were muddled. He remembered being Mustang thinking of how he wanted to know Ed, in that wistful way that comes when you know you are about to say goodbye forever.

"We really don't know each other at all, do we? I mean, I know you know all my shit, but we never knew each other as people. You were just that damn bastard and I was," he paused looking for an appropriate word. It presented itself, but it twisted his lips to say it. "A kid."

He had been for the people, but he hadn't realized that some of those people needing his help were right under his nose. Okay- it was Mustang. The man shouldn't have ever needed his help, but it was Ed's fault for not seeing him as a human being. Mustang hadn't wanted Ed to see him as a human being.

Mustang had started to hum again, and Ed turned, seeing the pout turned into a look of concern. He lifted his torso, before one of his heavy hands shoved Edward backwards.

"Hey- Kitty bastard-"

The cat man then flopped on top of him, smirking, folding his arms on Ed's chest and resting his chin on his hands.

"Mustang- what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

His answer was a soft lick on his chin, and a soft nuzzle against his throat. The humming dropped to almost subliminal.

"If you're trying to calm me down, you're not," he said, breathlessly. Mustang smirked; it made Ed nervous, but he didn't make any more moves, just stretched out and closed his eyes. Apparently he wanted his living pillow back.

"Jerk."

Well, his spate of nerves was over. Mustang was still on top of him, but Ed took a deep breath, and let himself enjoy the closeness and tried not to think with his dick.

His dick decided to start thinking on its own. Dammit.

He decided to leave before Mustang could start licking him again.

* * *

It was early still; the sun had yet to light the whole sky, leaving most of the kitchen the color of steel. The fury of breakfast would not begin for another hour or so… Ed wondered if he could find coffee. He needed to write down his findings before his sleeping memories dimmed in the morning light. It meant he had to turn around and go back to his room, but his kitty bastard was still curled up on the bed, and Ed took a moment to admire Mustang looking peaceful and cute before grabbing his notebook and returning down stairs to begin digging for the percolator.

He was met by Teacher Izumi and her husband Sig, both sitting at the kitchen table. They had already begun the coffee and had set out mugs, both with dour expressions on their faces. Ed didn't think it had to do with the early hour- those looks would have been more appropriate at a funeral.

"Is… something wrong?" he asked, voice catching in his throat. Being Ed, he jumped to a conclusion. "It's Al. You've heard something about Al- he's been killed?" Panic started to make his voice shake. He knew he shouldn't have let Al go off on his own with a random Ishballan he knew nothing about. What if his little brother wound up raped and- wait, he couldn't do that, he was a suit of armor. Well, what if he wound up broken into itty bitty pieces without his big brother to-

Izumi lifted her hand, interrupting his moment of spastic self-flagellation.

"No, nothing is wrong, Edward. We haven't heard anything from Al." Her expression had gone from dour to constipated, again. "Sig and I have decided that it is best for you to get this talk over with as soon as possible, especially if you are going to continue sharing your bed with an older man-"

"He thinks he's a cat and he only licked me twice!" Ed protested. He needed his coffee now- that was not something to be confessed to Teacher.

Izumi's eyebrow twitched. "I have no moral objections to you being with another man, Ed. You know my practical ones. There is nothing wrong with following your lusts so long as you are willing to accept any consequences, emotional and otherwise."

"That is why Izumi has asked me to give you some practical information, as well as cautions," Sig began, and Ed felt like a deer in a spotlight. His eyes fell to where Sig had pulled out a condom and a large sausage link…

He would have been better off staying in bed.

Riza Hawkeye finished her morning washing, dressed casually in slacks and button down, coming down to breakfast as she slung on her gun holster.

She was curious to see if last night's experiment had been a success. Her father would have been taking notes and questioning everything- so would Mustang if his mind was complete. It gave her a pang of nostalgia from a childhood long left behind.

She was stopped cold by the unusual sight of Ed turning green as Sig Curtis wielded a sausage covered in a thin sheath.

"That is how you use a condom. Now, you need to be careful when you…"

Riza covered her mouth with her hand. Ed had gone from green to bright red as Izumi pulled out a book and showed him diagrams of both the male and female body, and some of them portrayed different sex acts.

Both adults were adding comments, quite clinical in their descriptions of the changes the body underwent when aroused. Riza recalled something similar from when she had entered puberty- having an alchemist for a father and her mother dead for some years- he had no choice but to use books. It had made her wonder why people bothered with sex at all, considering how dangerous he had made it sound.

She wondered if Ed would be scarred for life. That could have been their intent, considering they were mentioning some of the mechanics of anal sex now, which included lubricant and stretching and the prostate.

Ed went pale.

"Now, it really is quite pleasurable, according to the books…"

Those words were meant to be reassuring, but they had the opposite effect. As humorous as it was, she decided to take pity on him. He had heard all the pertinent information by now.

"Good morning."

His relieved smile was all the thanks she would need.

* * *

Collaboration with two different and talented alchemists was something completely unique in Edward's experience- it was also exciting. He was used to working with Al, who knew every move he made before he made it- to have to explain himself, then have things explained to him- to have a completely new set of concepts and ideas suddenly spread before him- it had lit his imagination on fire.

"So, you do go to the Gate in those dreams," Marco said, as they covered the table with butcher paper. There were random scribbles, food and plates used to make improvised diagrams, and notes taken with drips off cups. "You saw more of his memories- can you confirm them?"

"The last memory had me in it- so it could have been my imagination," Ed said, doubtfully. He noted they were being watched with some amusement from the peanut gallery, and he turned to Hawkeye.

"Lieutenant," he asked. "Did you… ever play 'rescue the king' with Roy when you were, say, about five?"

She nodded, expression never wavering. "At least some of those memories are genuine- there is no way that he would have told you about those- nor anyone else."

"I wouldn't either," Marco muttered, taking a gulp from his cold coffee mug. Ed rolled his eyes.

"Is there any kind of pattern to the dispersal of the shards?" Izumi asked, bringing them back to the task at hand. "When an object is struck, there is usually a pattern radiating from the impact point outwards. The lightest, usually smallest pieces move the furthest, and the heavier ones drop. Would you say that analogy is applicable here?"

Ed rubbed his chin. "No- not really. Most of them were in a pile already- the ones furthest out that I noticed had no real pattern to them. The only pattern was the "good memory-bad memory" one I told you about already. It was like someone had been putting them back already before I got there." It struck him as odd. "They were in a pile- and Mustang, this time, couldn't touch them."

"Considering that Mustang had already been 'broken'," Marco murmured, leafing through his notes, "its likely that he had been putting them back himself. Memories aren't exactly coherent- your thoughts are constantly moving and shifting, memories are constantly coming up and going away and influencing action. Yet you say he was also completely absorbed in his own memories at times, to the point of losing reality."

"Do you think they actually knew what they were doing when they tried to deconstruct his mind- what their exact goals were, Ed?" Izumi picked up some toast, watching Ed chew on his bacon.

"As far as I knew, they were trying to remake him so they could use him again- use his alchemy… but I don't think they really cared at the end result. If they could have used him, all the better, but if not, well, we had new data." Ed frowned.

"There was more to Mustang's alchemy than just his array and gloves. You had to understand a good deal about thermodynamics, what is combustible and what is not, and it took a lot of time to learn the control necessary to make it effective. They couldn't have taken a creature with no memories and given him a pair of ignition cloth gloves and told him to make fires," Riza added. She would know his technique better than anyone here.

"Then how did they plan to reconstruct his mind?" Ed answered, grunting and shoving back from the table. "What exactly was it that they deconstructed? His soul, the essential part, still exists. His memories are there. What he lacks is having them in place and whole, and," he started pacing.

"If you were to reorder everything inside a person's memory, you could potentially reform their reality. Take out the pieces you didn't need- such as childhood memories, memories that caused discontent, memories of pain and sadness and all that was left was the information of how to use alchemy and nothing but the present… they could tell him he was anything, anyone, and he would have no reason not to believe them." Marco's eyes were grave.

Silence fell as they stewed over the doctor's words, Izumi frowning hard enough to leave wrinkles, while Ed stared into his coffee like it held the secrets he sought.

"I don't think that would work. When I was in his memories- the last one, especially- there were so many things going on in his head at the time, that you couldn't really separate the memory from what he was remembering in the memory- if that makes sense. He told me he had two things- his name and mine. They couldn't take away Roy Mustang." He flushed when he noticed everyone's eyes on him. He had been sort of preachy, hadn't he?

"If he has those things- what is it that he needs?" Izumi murmured.

"He needs the memories back," Ed said, stating the obvious.

"He has them- he just can't use them," Marco countered.

"He needs to be able to access them coherently." Predictably, it was Riza who had noticed the flow of logic. She might not have been an alchemist, but her mind was certainly analytical. "They must have damaged his ability to use his memories."

"So… we fix that… how?"

Edward scowled at the floor while Izumi rested her elbows on the table, and Marco seemed to be coming to a decision.

"Maybe… we use this?" he said, pulling out a familiar glowing red stone. There was a sharp intake of breath from Izumi while Ed gulped. "It would provide the power necessary- but I don't know when this particular stone will rebound. I've had it for years. The question is how we put it back inside him."

"We've established that the soul and the mind are not the same," Ed muttered, idly doodling in a puddle of condensation from a glass. "How do we reverse the deconstruction?"

"The mind is typically ignored when people make theories on human transmutation," Teacher said, drawing out an array on her notes. "What is the mind? It is the place where the body and soul meet, and memories are transferred and accessed. So…"

"His soul is sort of sitting there," Ed took a seat, and kicked his feet up on the table. They were promptly swatted away by his teacher, and he set them back on the floor with a thump. "The mind is more of a function than an object, do we agree? It is the anchoring point…" Ed sat up, jerking the chair back with a squeal.

"Are you suggesting we anchor his soul in his body like you did with Al?" Izumi was sputtering. "His memories need to be made whole first!"

"Well, if they're like glass, we could-"

"You alter his memories, you could alter his personality," Marco snapped. "Do you want that?"

If it had been any other point in time, Ed would have answered with a resounding "yes", but this was serious.

"I don't want to change them… just… make them one piece."

There was a general shuffling, hissing of breath and sighing. "Does he need them in one piece? He just needs to be able to touch them again. To remember. That's what needs fixing- more than anything else."

Ed flinched, his expression stating that he blamed himself again. "So… we anchor his soul to his body and leave his mind by itself."

"Yes, we're stuffing his soul inside his body and hoping it works, just adding some extra power to it," Izumi said, bluntly.

"Brilliant plan," Riza's voice was extremely dry. "Of course, it sounds like the alchemists in Lab 5 were thinking much the same. 'Let's break down something in his head and see what happens'."

"I can at least make sure all his memories are gathered together," Ed muttered, shifting back and forth. "Just… wish there was more we could do."

* * *

These strange dreams seemed more real than the waking world at times.

The Gate never failed to impress Ed with its sheer twisted immensity. The figures writhed in a continual dance of torment, never in the same position but faceless and ubiquitous. He could never recall what they looked like, just that they were there. The endless void from beyond the Gate tried to gaze into him… but it was not able to get through those same doors.

Always the same; it was always different.

There was a drop of red blood, distilled soul, essence, trapped between his fingers. It reminded him of the many shards he had seen Mustang card through- condensed.

_" Roy?"_

The other man was standing now, gazing off into the distance, before turning and smiling sweetly.

_"Yes, Ed?"_

He looked so peaceful. The cares Ed had never noticed before, the haunted eyes that had started him down this path were gone.

He was about to say something, then changed his mind. _"How are you?"_

_"I'm fine. Been thinking… " _

_ "About what?" _ Ed had never really sat and had a conversation with Mustang. He had never taken the time.

_"Your scent."_

HOLYsunuvabitchwhatthefuck?

_"My what? You-_" It suddenly struck Ed that he had been sharing his bed with a man who had been merged with a large cat. Humans could not smell things like pheromones, not consciously. Most of Mustang's changes had been internal. It did not preclude the possibility that he could smell Ed's… interest. Hoboy.

_"Well, I think we can talk about that later! I have to get the rest of your memories back into place so we can get around to fixing you so you can come out, then we can talk about how I smell all we like. Or, for that matter, how you smell! I mean, you really had some nice cologne and uh I need to get back to finding those pieces and all and-" _

Edward reached down to pick up the first shard that came to hand.

/_ "I'll write, Roy!"/ _

He took it over to the pile, coming out of it again with a gasp. It was cluttered with first love rejected, but a sharp hope… Dammit, now he knew how Mustang had felt about Hughes. He straightened up, and wiped his face. There were others. Not as many as there used to be, but there were others. He stepped out to take another.

/_The boy looked too small to be eleven, fragile and pale, swathed in bandages. He had seen bodies like that before, on people even younger… It still made him feel ill. _

_ He shouldn't have been so quiet. _

I came too late

_ What if someone else had found the letter? My god, those two boys performed human transmutation _and survived.

_ He made his decision- it had to be him, it could be no one else- that little girl could kill him later. He had a country to save. If he could save two little boys, all the better. _

_ Better that his soul was turned to ash than to have theirs on his conscience _

_His eyes met the boy's… he would be fine. They burned like fire./ _

It was fucking bizarre to see himself in Mustang's memories. He saw himself as Mustang did- small, wounded- but fire there. It was somewhat gratifying that Mustang had seen his potential, even if it seemed dangerous at the time.

Ed remembered through his own eyes- seeing the tall dark man who seemed strong, able to handle anything, who had come out of nowhere.

Then something struck him as odd. The little girl? The only one there had been Winry- unless Mustang had thought Ed was a girl. But he hadn't- he knew that Mustang had called him a "boy"- okay, he had been eleven at the time, so maybe it was accurate…

He tapped the side of his head with the heel of his left hand, shaking it briefly to clear it, and picked up another piece.

/_He had been furiously scribbling, covering every available surface with arrays, notes, hypotheses. There were books on all forms of biological alchemy, everything he had ever heard anyone say on bringing back the dead. _

_For a taboo, it was turning out to be a lot of fun. _

_Another idea had started to percolate through his mind. One that was just as risky, and just as insane, and could get a lot more people killed. _

_There was a rapping on his door, and he straightened with a creak. Idly he wondered how long he had been at this- hours, days, weeks? Whatever… _

_Huh, maybe he should have showered. _

_He staggered to the door, trying to get some feeling besides pins and needles back into his legs and feet. He didn't want to take time from his research, but… He looked at the calendar. He wasn't sure what day it was. _

_The glare from the bright light made him wince as he opened the door, and he couldn't summon a smile for Maes. That was all right. After flinching from the sight of him, Maes was smiling like his teeth hurt. _

_"Got my girlfriend to make you some apple pie."/ _

Oh fuck. Ed hadn't wanted to feel that kind of despair ever again. Not the kind that would drive a person to human transmutation. The shard was painfully sharp.

He returned it to the pile, and found another; then nearly dropped it because it was Roy confessing he loved Hughes in the most adolescently awkward way imaginable. Considering that, yes, Roy and Maes had been teenagers at the time…

Edward blushed.

He had to get another. This one was blurred and soft, a lullaby by a woman he couldn't see, but he could feel the comfort of her bosom and the security of her arms.

There were more; he continued to pick them up, feeling the shock of being someone else, but at the same time, they started to make sense as he went along. He had a context to place them in.

There was the first time he killed. Then there was breakfast with Riza and her father, when Mustang had been a child. A political machination being hatched with Maes was next.

There were always more. It wore him out… but he wanted to get this done. He had to save- someone. Edward didn't want to leave a person he was starting to understand… like this, alone.

It hurt at times. There was the memory of the night they found Nina.

/ _"You do have something you have to do, right?"/_

He had been talking about himself- what he had been through, after killing those two doctors, as much as he had been talking about Ed. You have a goal- you can't let something like this stop you.

The memory of the night Gran came for Mustang made him swallow. How could he be such a hypocrite? First telling Edward to go live on… and not doing it himself.

/_ "Those boys do cloud my judgment. You were right. /_

_"Fuck you, bastard…"_ Sometimes he really hated Mustang. He turned to look at the man, who was watching him with a puzzled expression.

_"What's wrong?" _

_ "You are! You- you don't tell me what you mean and you are constantly trying to help me even if I don't want you to and you think you can protect me when you can't even fucking protect yourself!" _Ed snarled. _"I never wanted you to!" _

_ "Maybe because I wanted to," _Mustang answered. _"Being in love isn't logical at all, is it?"_

Ed stared. _"Is that a rhetorical question?" _

_ "Well, you said you loved me last night." _

The words, combined with the memory of his own offhand comment, made steam pour out Ed's ears. Love? When had this turned into love? He only loved his brother; lust was something else entirely, and yes he _did_ care for the Colonel Bastard and he enjoyed having Kitty Bastard cuddle with him… He was so out it he blindly reached out, grabbing a shard for a memory to escape inside.

* * *

His boots clapped dully down Ishbal's blasted city streets. He was a bare step ahead of, nearly being run over by the massive man behind him.

There were no stars out that night. They were hidden by the dense haze of smoke that had been rising from the funeral pyres and corpses of once grand buildings. The desert cold had soaked through his uniform, aided by the sweat of panic. A different type of cold rested beneath his breastbone, with the jagged glass he had to have swallowed. His pulse pounded in his ears, and it took all his control to keep bolting.

He hoped. To any god who might be listening, he prayed. Please, I don't want to do this. They're doctors. Doctors!

Basque Gran's words were a deep rumble that made him jump. "This is your duty, Flame Alchemist."

There could be an attack- they could be hit by snipers. Maybe one of the Ishballan's clumsy bombs would go off and make this a moot point. Why did it have to be quiet when he was on his way to do something so heinous? They were almost there.

" Roy! Good to see you!"

They looked so happy. So happy; how could he do this? How could he-

"We just got a letter from home! Would you like some tea? We're celebrating- there's a new picture of Winry. Isn't she beautiful? She's probably going to take over Mom's automail business when she grows up," John Rockbell caroled. "Want some tea?"

His feet had become rooted to the floor.

"Go inside, Major," Gran rasped, behind him. The man's presence was a weight, steadily pushing him into the clinic. "This is not a social visit, Doctor Rockbell."

"Colonel Gran," Sara Rockbell greeted them, her eyes were wary. She knew of the Iron Blood Alchemist's reputation, apparently.

He fought down his encroaching hysteria. It was his orders.

They were doctors! They only wanted to help people! They saved my life!

They were ordered to stop.

But-

"This is not a social call, Doctors," the Iron Blood Alchemist was entirely too comfortable. "You had been ordered to stop assisting wounded Ishballans. You defied those orders in a time of war. Defying a superior officer in a time of war is punishable by death."

The words seemed to be coming from miles away, under water, or his ears were plugged. It wasn't quite real. His body was heavy, numb with shock as he stood there, listening to Gran, watching the Rockbells' faces go from pleasantly bland to disbelief to denial.

"Colonel- we're doctors. We were doing our job to heal the sick and save the dying! We never gave away information about the military. We-"

Maybe some of the insurgents were there. Maybe there would be a random attack any moment now. If there was a distraction, they could run.

"You were ordered. You defied those orders. Your sentence is execution."

He had a chance. If he turned, took the gun and fired now, he could change this. He could kill Gran and let them go, he could run away with them and-

And-

He faltered. These were his orders. He had joined the military, defying his teacher, to help the people. Help them. He was a soldier. He was an alchemist. Follow orders, be thou for the people. Follow orders… Wasn't the military supposed to protect the people? Wasn't that what he had told himself?

The light died away as the door inexorably shut.

"Major Mustang. You have your orders."

The gun was in his hip holster, its weight awkward and ungainly. His fingers curled around the grip, and he let his arm drop. His eyes were glued to the floor. He could feel their eyes and he couldn't bring himself to look at them.

"Major Mustang. You have been ordered to execute these two traitors. Follow your orders."

He couldn't do this. He couldn't. They were his _friends_, good people who were for the people more than anyone he could name. He-

"Mustang. Need I remind you what will happen if you do not carry out your orders?" Gran's voice barked in his ear.

God, yes, he knew. That Place, the one where they made the Stones, and becoming part of their experiments was what awaited him if he failed. He knew he couldn't run. To become less than human; it was something he feared more than death.

"Why are you hesitating now, Mustang? You are a soldier. You must follow orders. That is all there is for you. Execute the traitors. Do it!"

He looked up, hands shaking as he stared at the shock on his friends' faces. He felt his mouth move, wanting to apologize, wanting to do anything but be there at that moment.

John Rockbell gazed at him, his face full of fear and anger, but his eyes were also filled with pity. Sara Rockbell had wrapped her arms around her husband, hiding her face from what she knew was coming.

"Get it over with, Roy."

Riza had tried to teach him how to be a good shot. He knew how to aim, and his arm seemed to move without his direction as he brought it to bear. He gazed down the barrel, wanting to look away, but knowing… He had to make this clean. Not that he could miss, not at this range.

He was aware of the pistol recoiling in his hand, of the smell of gunpowder and the loud pop, and the soft ping of empty cartridges hitting the cement floor. Blood sprayed him in the face… and everything inside him screeched and _shattered._

Words, words, he could hear words from someplace, praising him, telling him that his country thanked him. It meant nothing. The sound and the feel kept replaying themselves over and over again and he wanted to _scream_ because he had become everything he had ever hated. He was a _murderer_, not a soldier, not someone protecting the people. He didn't deserve to be an alchemist and Hawkeye was right, he had no place doing this. He was too young, too stupid; he had tried to do what was right and had let himself be used and all for nothing.

He was vaguely aware of someone else coming in- the Crystal Alchemist, but he wasn't paying any attention. He was scrambling outside on hands and knees to retch.

* * *

Edward's world stumbled to a halt.

_"You? You were the one who killed Auntie and Uncle Rockbell?"_

Two innocent people, two doctors, he had been told. Mustang had never said the names of the people he had killed, and Edward hadn't wanted to ask. He stopped in his tracks, looking over at the pleasant, peaceful expression on Mustang's face.

Emotions tried to crush him as he struggled against their tide. Hatred- the man had killed two people Edward _knew, _had made Winry _cry. _He deserved to die for what he did- he deserved to be-

_"Oh hell,"_ he whispered, when he realized where his thoughts were going, covering his mouth with one hand. He felt violently ill for even thinking that. It _had happened_. Mustang had gotten exactly what he feared the most, what he had been threatened with before. He could have turned Al and himself in… this time he hadn't.

The shard that he had touched was black, flecked with red, blasted and warped. This was what had caused Mustang's mind to break, he thought. This is the cause. Edward knew his remorse, the pain he had felt. He knew Mustang had even gone so far as to consider human transmutation.

Could he forgive him?

_"Mustang, you know you're just a load of fun, don't you? First, you throw my emotions out of whack, then you cause me all sorts of trouble to save you and now you show me that you were an idiot. You knew better than to join the military!"_ He got up and walked over, grabbing him by the front of his shirt_. "You knew better- your teacher told you not to! You wanted to- you wanted to help…" _

His own excuses for human transmutation paraded through his own mind, and how he had paid for his sins. Was his crime of youth and despair worse than misguided idealism? He had no right to decide.

_"Damn you,"_ Ed whispered, first pushing him back then wrapping his arms around the Colonel's chest. _"Damn you."_

_"I have been, Edward,"_ Roy answered, pulling closer to him and Ed shivered. The embrace felt solid, even if the man himself was not_. "I think. I want to come back. Please?" _

Ed shuddered, and pulled away, glaring upwards at him_. "You don't ask for much, do you, kitty bastard?" _

The familiar smirk made Edward itch. He gathered himself- noticing that he had most of the shards, and picked up the rest. Compared to the last one, they were tame and forgettable. It made it much easier to pile them up.

And that… was that.

_"I'm going to try anchoring your soul back in your body- it should be drawn there, but we want to make sure,"_ Edward told him, sighing. What if it didn't work?

What if Mustang turned into the cat, and never came back?

He grimaced. This was going to be a bad idea, but considering that it was a dream, on some kind of bizarre metaphorical plane… Who the hell was going to tell?

Standing up on his tiptoes, Ed grabbed his courage and Mustang's shoulders, and yanked him down to eye level. Without a word he gave him a quick, awkward press on the lips. Then he let go.

And clapped.

To be continued.

A/N: I hope that made sense, and that everyone is still mostly IC. If not… please leave concrit behind. Enjoy the long chapter!


	17. Chapter 17

**Departure XVII **

****

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairing: Roy and Ed, others mentioned

Warnings: Shonen-ai, chimera!Roy, divergence from episode 13, possible OOC.

A/N: Writing more now…

Waking was something he wished could be put off.

Part of him knew there was a reality out there he truly wanted no part of, but he had a duty to perform. A goal, maybe unattainable now, but it still existed. There were people waiting for him.

So Roy Mustang opened his eyes.

Immediately he closed them again, groaning at the pain pulsing through his forehead. He felt like he was coming off a five day bender, and now he remembered why he hadn't done that in quite a while.

His body felt like he hadn't moved in ages, heavy and numb in places. Things just felt damn odd… gathering his courage, he opened his eyes again, focusing on a mess of bright yellow under his nose. It took a moment for him to realize his arms were wrapped almost protectively around the owner of that hair, and the small body fit quite comfortably against his own.

Well, that explained the pins and needles in his fingers.

He must have been extremely drunk. That was the only conclusion he could come to, considering that none of the surroundings were familiar, he had stayed the night, and the blond hair looked bizarrely like Fullmetal's. It did explain the fact that his memories seemed horribly vague, and…

The body he was holding smelled good. Good in a way that tugged at him, made him want to bury his nose in that hair and keep breathing it in. So he did, humming to himself, feeling oddly content with that gesture.

There was a jerk, smashing against his nose and knocking his head back, and Roy Mustang was suddenly looking into the shocked, somehow hopeful eyes of Edward Elric.

Mustang's mind went blank with surprise.

Other cues about the situation started to sink in, such as the fact that they were both fully dressed. Ed had dark circles under his eyes, he was sweating, but he didn't look like had been enjoying whatever had been going on. He didn't smell of fear, or physical hurt, but…

"Are you all right?" Ed asked, squirming and sitting up, gripping Mustang's shoulders in a gesture that was both caring and out of character. "Do you remember now? Stuff? Well, I mean, my name you had but you forgot things like- can you talk now?"

Roy blinked, unconscious doing an impression of a fish as he gathered his thoughts together. Either that had been one hell of a bender or- He inhaled sharply. Those had not been dreams.

"Fullmetal… Ed." His throat was sore, seemingly from disuse. He sat up, barely stopping a shudder from running down his spine. His body was one big ache… probably mostly healed from whatever had happened, but he hadn't truly acknowledged it before. "I… I'm fine. What happened?"

Ed's voice was quiet, tentative, like he was trying not to give too much away. "You don't remember?"

He searched his memory, flinching as he recalled the knowledge that he was lost, that Gran had won, but he had found the courage to do the right thing. Then there was the laboratory, a monster with an upside down face, and the scream of a large cat… After that, it was a blur of disconnected sensory input.

Having Ed look at him with anything other than anger or contempt seemed unnatural. He was used to the ranting, the endless insults. He wasn't looking at him like that now- now his eyes were filled with concern.

"You are not fine, kitty bastard," Ed muttered, when a sudden wave of dizziness caused him to nearly topple over. Ed caught him, helped steady him, and Mustang turned to him, eyebrow cocked in humorous disbelief.

"Who are you and what have you done with 'Mr. I Am Not a Kid' Edward Elric?"

It almost brought the desired response- an outburst of temper would have been reassuring, something normal to grip- but while Ed flushed in anger, he withheld his retort. "I don't want to fight with you on that. I'll tell you what's been happening once you tell me what you know."

Mustang frowned, peering into Ed's face and taking a deep breath. If Ed was acting that out of character, he needed to answer honestly, and he searched his memory as best he could.

"I remember, clearly, walking up after they softened me up." Ed winced. "Tucker and Gran decided to… emphasize the point of what they were going to do. They said they were going to deconstruct my mind, and talking about the other experiments they were going to perform. Then Tucker was activating the array, and… After that, it's… confused." He frowned harder. "I remember… it doesn't make much sense." Oh yes, he remembered the pain of those experiments, but he didn't need to tell Edward about that. He didn't want Ed to suddenly hyperventilate- he looked ready to have a spasm anyways.

"It's mostly just impressions after that. A red room, being frustrated, then it's cool again and," he shook his head. It was hard to put the disjointed images in context. He lifted one hand to rub his aching skull, and stopped, bringing his palm and fingers down to stare.

* * *

"Fullmetal," Mustang's voice was nearly inaudibly. "What happened?"

Ed inhaled through his nose. How do you explain to someone that he was a chimera?

"Al and I broke you out of Lab 5 when we got back after finding Marco. He's all right, in fact, he's downstairs. The military told everyone that you had been executed, but Marco realized you probably hadn't been. Said you were too useful. Me and Al, we sort of crashed your funeral and got everyone together later and planned your escape. We got in, and some shape shifting freak pretended to be you at first, and they tried to get me to make the Philosopher's Stone for them. Then they showed you to me, told me the best way to fix you would be to make the Stone."

He squirmed. "They told me you were completely gone, that there was no way for you have survived what they did. But they were wrong- I'm glad you're such a stubborn ass, you know that? You tried to say my name even after, after that." He licked his lips, feeling the questions in Mustang's gaze. He couldn't meet it. "After that, we brought you here to my teacher. We put our heads together and last night, we managed to get your mind back."

Edward lifted his chin, noticing Mustang's gaze had returned to his altered limb. "They said they merged you with a wild cat, called a jaguar. You look pretty human. What had me concerned was that they did deconstruct your mind."

Mustang either had unnatural calm, or he was going into shock. Ed didn't want to lay bets on which he was seeing. "We did what we could… when we rescued you, you couldn't talk. You knew your name, and…" For some reason he didn't want to bring up that Mustang had known his name as well. "And from there, we were able to theorize on how to fix you, using Marco's Philosopher's Stone."

The clawed hand closed in a fist. "Ah."

"I was- we were- more concerned with your mind." He didn't know why he felt so apologetic. "At least like this, you can try to find a cure for yourself."

The silence was long and lingered, and Ed wished he could run. He knew it was hard, to survive and go on. To suddenly find your worst fear come to life- people could do spectacular and horrible things. He remembered the desperation that drove him to attach Al's soul to that armor. Mustang had killed when faced with this…

"Why didn't you turn us in?"

And his damned mouth couldn't shut up, could it? "I know this is what they threatened you with when you killed the Rockbells. You could have let Gran take us and stayed in favor with the military."

The look Mustang bestowed made him feel small, grimy and worthless. "Do you really think so little of me, Fullmetal?" he spat, curling his lips back to reveal his fangs. "I've protected you for three years- surely you know me better than that!"

Ed found himself scowling. "Yeah, I do! But fuck, I want to hear you say it! I want you to say it so that you can hear it too, and remember. Why save two brats who have caused you nothing but headaches for these past years, blowing stuff up and causing you a shit load of paperwork? Why care? Why did you do it?"

"I don't care about currying _Gran's_ favor, and I never did," Mustang said, bitterly. "I did it, Ed, because I believe you can change the world."

The room had gotten extremely cold, and Ed almost wished he hadn't asked that question. He hadn't expected the answer to be "I love you," but a small voice (that sounded suspiciously like Al's) had told him he had wanted it.

Of course, knowing that Mustang _believed_ in him was nearly as heady.

"Come on, then. I've seen you walking around here for the past couple of days, weeks actually. Getting you here when you were thinking you were a cat was interesting," he said, smiling and showing too many of his own teeth. He did recall his promise of blackmail. Not yet, but later…

Then he sighed. He would miss his kitty bastard- physical contact was something he rarely had, not with another warm body. Al was cold steel even if his spirit nearly outshone the sun. A flush started up the back of his neck and found its way to his ears…

Mustang's head suddenly snapped up, attention focused on the air as he began to take soft gulps of breath, holding them in for a moment and letting them go, almost like he were tasting it. Black eyes fixed on Ed, mouth opening to hint at the teeth, as he leaned down and continued to taste.

Ed felt his eyes bulge.

"It'stimeforbreakfastareyoucomingdown? HEY TEACHER!" Ed scrambled out of the bed, running on bare feet to the door and thundering down the stairs. "KITTY BASTARD IS AWAKE!"

* * *

Roy watched Ed motor out of the bedroom, leaving him an emotional wreck. Hopefully Edward had not realized that he was an emotional wreck; he believed he had kept enough control to hide that much, at least.

It did not help him cover his utter _astonishment_ at what his nose was telling him.

He had not yet had time to evaluate the changes in his body. The long, much larger claw tipped hand had been all he had seen so far. However, his sense of hearing, smell and vision were quite different.

Light and dark were in much sharper contrast, and he could hear Ed still stomping downstairs. There was conversation, and he could pick up all the details from breathing to emphasis if he cared to pay attention. He didn't; he was more interested in the _scent_ that had been coming off Edward in the moment before he had escaped.

It was alluring, desirable, and wanting. Fullmetal had smelled of _wanting_, and his senses told him Edward wanted sex.

Somehow the idea of sex and Fullmetal in conjunction was… just odd. The boy had never shown any interest in _anyone_, even if he was fifteen. He had so much focus it was nearly inhuman, and while Roy could be reasonably sure the boy did know sex existed; he had been startled to realize Ed had gotten into puberty.

He scratched his cheek, wincing when he nearly cut himself, and slid off the bed. His feet led him to the bathing room, even if he did not know where it was, and he had to decide if he wanted to look at himself in the mirror just yet.

Ed had smelled of arousal. His rational mind put that label on it, but he was divided on interpretation after the fact. Ed was a teenager, and being around a breathing, warm body could probably have that effect on him. Another part, which seemed to fit rather oddly with his own, made comments that Ed was healthy, strong, and…

He smacked the side of his head as he found the courage to look into the mirror. The same rakishly handsome devil, but not, looked back.

To anyone else, he probably looked the same, but not to he saw the differences. His jaw was just a bit heavier, because of the teeth now filling his mouth, the jaw more buttressed to contain them. Those teeth were… interesting, to say the least. He had his molars in the back- it meant he could probably eat plants, but the canines were definitely meant for a carnivore. His eyes flicked to the spots under his shirt, and he peeled it off to consider them.

They could have been tea stain birthmarks, dark ones, but for the pattern there. They were definitely animal markings. Not human, inhuman, monster… State Alchemists had been called these things in the past, but to truly become that?

He let out a deep breath, looking down at his trembling hands. There was no use in dwelling on what he could not yet change. He knew this. He knew he had to go forward, and find a way to survive and keep moving.

Yet he doubted any chimera had ever been Fuhrer. His ambitions, the goals he had worked for, he had thrown away for a short blond and an empty suit of armor.

Why did he do it? Was it to assuage his guilty conscience? The answer he had given Ed was true, but he was having trouble dealing with the aftermath. His people, the soldiers who had followed him without question, were in greater danger now. He couldn't help them. He couldn't do anything. The Flame Alchemist was no more; all that was left was a worthless chimera. How the hell was he supposed to live now?

Mustang had been a leader, a soldier, for years. He had dealt with having his life fall apart, and come out the other side.

He had been merged with an animal and had lost his humanity, his drive, his people and his purpose. Anger and despair twisted in his belly as he looked at the freak in the mirror. He could cope later.

A wordless cry welled up inside his chest, an animal snarl, and he raked his hand claw over the beast's reflection.

* * *

"Mustang?" Ed whispered, hearing an ear piercing scream morph into a true roar, followed by a crash from upstairs. He had been telling his teacher that it was an apparent success, and having to deal with the fact that a rational Mustang could smell his… uh, interest. Not that he told his teacher that quite yet.

Riza had been standing to the side, listening in, and her head jerked at the same time as Ed's did, and together they ran back up the stairs.

The door hadn't been locked, and Ed hit it first, staggering inside before Riza rushed in after him.

The mirror was lying in fragments around Mustang's feet, in a sad parody of Ed's dreams from the night before. Only this time Roy's hands were bleeding instead of passing through the mess untouched.

"Colonel," Riza started, and then winced when he looked up at her, his face in a mask of self loathing.

"Mustang," Ed followed, approaching cautiously. It was obvious the man was not all right, but… Edward hated seeing him lost like this. That was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

" Roy," Riza added. She and Ed walked carefully to him, as he kept staring at his hands. His chest was heaving like he had run a marathon, nostrils flaring with each breath. He had turned back to his hands, wincing at the blood covering them, but Ed didn't know if he was mad about the mess or the pain.

Then, improbably, he laughed.

It started deep in his belly, bubbling up as he sank to his knees, unmindful of the razor sharp edges he landed on. It come up through his chest, turning into a hysterical titter, high and shrill as it left. His bloody palms covered his face, trying to hold the sound inside.

"Mustang- don't," Ed whispered, stepping closer.

"If only they could see me now," he choked out between bouts of laughing, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Hawkeye, the Rockbells- I got what I deserved, didn't I? I killed all those people and I didn't listen to Teacher's warnings and I thought I could help the people by helping the State. Then I thought I could fix the country. I couldn't. I really couldn't. I tried and I failed and now- I can't help anyone. I can't keep you two boys out of their hands and I can't become Fuhrer and I can't even stop laughing!" His hands went back to his face, the shaking becoming worse as he bit his lip to in a futile attempt to stem the hysteria.

"Look at me, I'm a _cat_! Forgive me, a jaguar," he giggled. "Meow…"

Ed's hands fell to his sides, biting his tongue. He was at a loss as to what to do. He had thought he had succeeded- but he was watching start to Mustang go mad in front of him.

Riza frowned, exhaling slightly, and walked forward, resolution on her face. Her boots crunched in the scattered glass, before crouching in front of her former superior officer. Her eyes fluttered briefly.

" Roy, don't do this."

He looked at her, laughter slowing as he wiped away the tears, leaving blood across his face. "Why did you do it?" He tittered. "I'm a dead man. Didn't you know its taboo to bring back the dead?"

Riza's eyes hardened, sitting up straighter- and the sound of her fist colliding with his jaw made a wet, meaty crack. It threw him back, and before he could recover, her other fist sank into his stomach, knocking out his wind.

Ed's eyes bugged out as he watched her walk to the shower head, turn it on, and turn the cold water on Mustang. It caused a surprised, annoyed yelp, but the hysterical laughter completely died, leaving a much clearer eyed man behind.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Ed muttered, scratching his head. He felt rather useless. Riza flashed him a faint smile before nodding to the towels. Grabbing one, he walked over, and together they helped Mustang back up to his feet.

He was shuddering and shivering from the cold, his hands still bleeding, but Riza began to pick out the glass and Ed started to rub him down.

"You are not dead. You are here, and alive. Father would never have wanted you in this position, Roy," Riza said quietly, searching and removing the small slivers. "He knew you wanted to help others and that you thought this was the best way. You're better than this, Mustang. We rescued you once we knew you were alive because _we_ believe in _you._ I, for one, am not willing to give up just yet."

The air was still wheezing in his chest, but Mustang had calmed down, and Edward continued to towel him off. He nearly went limp with relief that the man was acting sane again.

"All of us made the decision to come after you," Edward added. "We wanted to protect you, kitty bastard."

The last phrase sent a small spasm of laughter out Mustang's mouth, before he nodded.

* * *

Mustang inhaled, following behind Edward and Riza as they trudged down the stairs as he recovered from his brush with lunacy. His mind skimmed the details of his surroundings. It was familiar, but at the same time, it was not.

He rubbed his jaw, thinking about the past couple of days- or was it weeks? He was grateful, even if it did hurt like hell, to have Riza jar sense back into him. He had been losing his grip on reality again, drifting off… It seemed that the best way to get him to see reason was to use a fist.

He snorted under his breath. Maes would have been amused.

The downstairs portion of this place smelled interesting, even before he saw it. Meat, cooking, people and animals all mixed into a heady aroma that left him reeling before the strange Other in his mind started to sort through the data for him. It seemed to grab him by the scruff his neck, calming the frightened kitten and showing him how to cope with the sounds as well, for there were many. Soft conversation, clunks of a blade on a tile, high pitched scraping of chairs mixed with the sounds of the two people before him. Never before had he heard Fullmetal's automail _move_, but there it was. The soft sounds of gears and bearings and breathing was all noticeable now.

He wondered if he had been blind and deaf and without a nose his whole life. How had he ignored all this? He doubted he would have been able to handle it without the blasé acceptance from the Other, who seemed to find the whole notion of walking upright equally as novel; as was speaking with words. His attention shifted from contemplating his sudden change in senses when he noticed the face of a person he had not believed he would ever see in the flesh again.

"Dr. Marco," he said, bewildered, as he was gestured to sit down at the table with him.

" Roy," the older man acknowledged, his brow smoothing with relief. There was similar relief from everyone in the room, and Mustang paused. They had been waiting, apparently, to see if the experiment had been a success.

"Congratulations, Ed," a tall woman said, standing next to a mountain with eyes and beard. "You did it."

"Thanks, Teacher," Edward answered, and Mustang felt the eyes shift back to him. The woman, who was nearly as intimidating as Hawkeye, tilted her head.

"So, you are the infamous Flame Alchemist Roy Mustang," she stated, the corner of her mouth lifting. He evaluated her with the eye of someone long accustomed to dealing with women- she was not impressed. Given the mountain behind her and the wedding ring, flirting would be ill advised. However, flattery could get him anywhere, if he were careful.

"What is left of him," he murmured, giving her a slight bow and turning on the charm. "Though the lovely lady as the advantage over me. Might I know your name as well?"

"Hmm." Her smile was sharp. She saw through him, but found him amusing. "Ed, I hope you are taking notes. However, if you kiss my hand, Mr. Mustang, I'm afraid my honey will have to kill you."

"I have no such intentions," Roy reassured her. Really, married women were fine, but he didn't want to deal with their husbands. "But I still do not know your name."

"I'm Izumi Curtis, this is my husband Sig," she answered. "You are in my home, and I am Ed's teacher. I take it you are the dog that herded him into the military?" Her tone had a brittle edge to it now, one that heralded potential violence.

"I am the one who offered him the opportunity, yes. However, it was his choice to take it," Roy answered, not quite taking the bait. "It was an equivalent exchange."

She snorted rudely. "Don't tell you truly believe in that nonsense."

Mustang lifted an eyebrow. "It's obviously not perfect, true. Yet in return for not giving them exactly what they wanted, I didn't turn them into complete lackeys." He gave her a crooked smile. "Edward's opinion not withstanding."

Izumi scowled. "You make them into-"

"I would never have ordered them to kill or to harm another human being. I sent Edward and his brother to areas where they could do good. They did my dirty work, yes. However, it kept certain unsavory types from getting hold of them."

"Like yourself?"

The Other and Mustang wrestled briefly- it wanted Mustang to curl his lips up and hiss at her, and his better sense told him that would be stupid. Everything about this woman screamed "formidable" and, he knew, he never won an argument with Hawkeye. To antagonize another such lady, who was also his host, would be suicide.

He could feel eyes on him, from Edward to Riza and Marco, and he wondered exactly how he should answer. Truthfully, he supposed. He had nothing else to lose.

"Yes."

Roy saw Edward open his mouth and shut it, crossing his arms and looking away to fume. Well, that was a first. Roy had never seen him stay silent- but he had acted almost like he wanted to protest… which made no sense to him at all.

Izumi seemed to stare through him- before casually tossing a cleaver between his fingers to strike the wood of the table under them. A growl made his chest rumble, as he and the Other united in perfect agreement. His fingers dug into the wood as well as his lips twitched upwards to show his fangs, shoulders hunching forward as he half crouched on the table.

"That was uncalled for," he answered, tone low as the words cleared his teeth. It took him a moment to realize he had acted in such a way- and sat up in bewilderment. It had felt perfectly natural to do so, as it was to smell the air. Riza was perfectly calm, smelling healthy, her heart and breath easy, while Ed's raced as his lungs bellowed in and out, and Marco seemed to be withholding amusement.

Izumi, however, seemed to be acting like a queen defending her kittens- or rather, one kitten in particular. Her expression was cold, and uniquely familiar. He had seen it on the faces of disapproving brothers or fathers often enough.

"I believe it was. You are known for your… loose… morals, former Colonel. If you ever harm Edward, I will not rest until you are hunted down."

From the side, Mustang could hear Ed's heart speed up even more. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the young man blushing. Well, having your teacher act like a mother hen could do that.

"He made the decision to become a State Alchemist on his own," Mustang countered. "He was allowed to conduct his missions as he saw fit." He might as well admit the rest, shouldn't he? "I let him pursue his goal and cleaned up the messes he made in that pursuit. If you think I could physically abuse your student, you are seriously underestimating him."

Izumi pinched the bridge of her nose, and Sig chuckled.

Mustang wondered what exactly it was he was missing here.

* * *

Edward winced internally at his teacher's speech. In a way, it was warming to have his almost-mother trying to defend his so called 'honor' to his lust interest. It was also so embarrassing he wanted to sink into the floor right then and there.

At least it wasn't Al doing it. He would have died on the spot to have his little brother (or, even worse, Winry!) try to politely threaten the older man.

He kept his eyes on Mustang though, because while he seemed to have recovered from his bought of hysteria, well, who knew how well he really was? Edward certainly didn't, and Hawkeye was probably watching him too.

"Do you have any plans now, Mustang?" Izumi asked, after the snarling had stopped. Ed wondered how it had become so normal- kitty bastard snarled, but Colonel Mustang hadn't. Of course, "kitty bastard" seemed to be what he had mentally tagged him, and it had stuck.

Ed had never thought it would be reassuring to see Mustang lean on the table, folding his hands and resting his chin there. Yet it was another herald of a return to his regular self, and Ed welcomed it.

Then he rubbed his eyes, looking horribly tired.

"Maybe it's too soon to be thinking about this?" Edward heard himself say. It took him a moment to realize he _had_ spoken, even if he did agree with those words. "You just woke up, after all."

Mustang craned his neck to look at him, dark eyes unreadable. "Thank you for your concern, however, we do need to know what kind of pursuit to expect. We also need to know how deep this rabbit hole goes." He bowed his head, and Marco, watching, let out a soft sigh.

"I still want to try to cure you," Ed said impulsively. "Could you give it a few days?"

"That would be ill advised. You can try, but if we've been here for any length of time, it's likely we were noticed. You and your brother are fairly recognizable, especially with each other," Mustang answered.

"It's a good thing that Al isn't here, isn't it?" Ed snapped. "We were in disguise when we came here, kitty bastard!"

There was only one word for Mustang's expression: flabbergasted. "You aren't here with your brother? Who are you, and what have you done with Edward Elric?"

Edward twitched violently. "Who are you calling so small he can't travel without his little brother because his brother is so much bigger than him?" he hissed, before stopping at the look of relief that briefly flashed over Mustang's face.

"Well, there you are. I was afraid this was all some kind of bizarre nightmare," he said softly, looking down at his hands again. Ed felt another stab of guilt. He also felt an inexplicable depression when he realized his kitty bastard was gone, and that while Mustang could probably _smell_ his interest, it wasn't returned.

He didn't notice the eyes on him, both his teacher's and his crush.

* * *

Life in Central went on, and Hughes pursed his lips as he read another report.

So far, the official story was a fire had broken out the abandoned Laboratory 5. The news of what had really happened had been suppressed. Yet there had been a scrambling of men and resources afterwards, as _someone_ had begun a search for the people and creatures that had escaped.

Gran was still firmly ensconced next to the Fuhrer, and for some reason that made Hughes unbearably paranoid. There had been nothing to suggest yet that they were hunting Roy Mustang, but there had been inquiries into the whereabouts of the Elrics, into Mustang's other subordinates, notably Riza Hawkeye.

He pushed his glasses up and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

He was grateful that Al had separated from Ed, for whatever length of time. He was the more easily recognizable of the Elric brothers, even if he was not the Fullmetal Alchemist himself. With his disappearance into the wild blue yonder, it meant he could lay any number of false leads at need.

Especially if he was hanging around the Alchemist Killer; Hughes knew that between the two, they could hide and handle any danger that came their way. Ed would be hampered with a crippled Roy for an indeterminate amount of time… At least until he found out otherwise.

Briefly he thanked whatever power might be listening that the rest of the staff had been left unmolested. He had assimilated the remaining men from Roy's staff into his own, and he knew exactly who was watching and where.

He looked up, and saw Fury in front of his desk, shifting from foot to foot, and nodded for him to speak.

"Sir, we've gotten a rather… odd… telegram. It says it's from… your mother?" Fury said, swallowing nervously.

"My mother has been dead for- let me see that!" Maes snapped, grabbing it.

A smile cut across his face.

* * *

"Shh."

"What is it, Mr. Scar?" Alphonse asked, stopping. Scar had the impression that the boy would have been holding his breath if he could have. "What's wrong?"

"We've been followed."

It had been several days since they had left the Ishballan refugee camp. Rick and Leo had been sad to have their new friends leave, but when Alphonse had told them they were going to investigate Alchemy, they had an easier time. Alchemy was all right in the hands of unbelievers, but it still made them nervous.

It had also been several days since Scar had begun to tell Alphonse about his brother, and the massacre in Ishbal. He had hesitated at first. Yet… Alphonse's kind and stubborn nature was not to be denied.

"Ah!"

Scar had noticed the large figure lumbering after them first, but Al apparently recognized this person.

"He's that State Alchemist that had been following Brother and me when we went looking for Dr. Marco," Al explained in a rushed whisper.

"Then I will send him to the arms of-" Scar was stopped by Alphonse's hand on his shoulder.

"Please don't kill him. He hasn't hurt anyone, and he's not even in uniform," he pleaded. "Let me talk to him!"

Scar shrugged his hand away. They had hidden behind a large boulder at the top of a gully. It only provided minimum cover- as it was, the alchemist would see them once he changed his angle.

Alphonse was on the run from the state military, as much as he himself was. He knew he truly owed the boy nothing… but at the same time, they begun down a path to discover the truth about his arm, and Scar was not going to let it get away from him. Not when he had been able to sleep better than he had in years in this boy's presence.

"Mr. Scar! Don't!"

He hissed- the alchemist had heard Alphonse's cry and jerked his head upwards in wide eyed surprise as the Ishballan barreled towards him.

"No! Don't!"

The alchemist had the time, but he had not prepared any kind of counter attack, skipping to the side. In fact, his hands were cupped together, as if he was holding something. Yet for such a large man he moved easily and gracefully, dodging yet again as Scar went on the offensive.

"Please, don't fight! He's not attacked us at all, Scar!"

The youth's words went unheeded as the two men danced, the land about them getting torn and disintegrated with Scar's repeated attack.

"What's wrong, alchemist?" Scar sneered, narrowing his eyes. "You've not bothered to counter any of my blows. Feeling off?"

"I have no interest in-"

_Meow_

All three figures stopped. The large, bald alchemist straightened, and he seemed to sparkle in the light as he opened up his cupped hands.

"Oh dear," he murmured, looking down at the small body he had been protecting, even in the midst of the fight. Scar thought he heard Alphonse breath catch in the back of his throat as he approached, and even the callused Ishballan had to stop his instinctive urge to coo.

In the large man's hands was a kitten- one so young its eyes hadn't even opened yet. It wobbled, aimlessly trying to find its mother or littermates, crying helplessly as it searched for something familiar.

All three sighed, and the large alchemist gently stroked the kitten's head.

"I apologize for coming upon you unannounced," he said. "But I was distracted by this little one here. I came upon a bag of kittens that someone had tried to drown, and I could not look away, as defending the helpless has been an Armstrong tradition for generations. This was the only one that had survived."

Alphonse was already entranced. "I remember you following brother and me back when we were looking for Dr. Marco. Have you been following us all this time?"

"I was sent by Lt. Colonel Hughes to keep you safe when you and your brother were traveling. I lost you then found you again after you had sprung Colonel Mustang out of the laboratory, and it was by my own decision that I continued. Lt. Colonel Hughes believed that it would be a good idea for someone to stay with you."

"Why, so you can discover the secrets of my arm and tell the military?" Scar asked, though there was little venom there. Unfortunately… this man had discovered the one weakness he had kept. It was hard to want to kill a man who had done his best to protect a kitten from a serial killer.

"No, for all intents and purposes, I am AWOL," the large man answered softly.

Alphonse turned to Scar, giving him proverbial kitten eyes… and Scar nearly gave up. He had lost his family, lost his people… and now this soul in a suit of armor… He couldn't hate him. The boy was innocent, even if he did perform alchemy.

"All right. I won't kill him," Scar muttered, turning away.

What the hell was that boy doing to him?

To be continued.

A/N: I'm sorry about the kitten scene. I had to add it. Cat lovers unite, man…


	18. Chapter 18

**Departure XVIII**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Roy and Ed, possible Scar/Al, others mentioned.

Warnings: Shonen-ai, divergence from episode 13, chimera!Roy, possible OOC.

A/N: My longest fic ever. Go me!

Ed shoved his hands deeply into his pockets, hunching his shoulders as he scowled as he watched his teacher row away from the shores of Yock Island. For the second time in his life he had been dumped there, without a by-your-leave. He had been told, once more, that he was not to use alchemy. He had been given a knife, and that was all the equipment he had.

"I don't know why the hell she did this," Ed grumbled, hunching over further and nearly sticking out his bottom lip. "It's not like this place has anything left to teach me."

"What I don't understand," answered the voice of his companion. "Is why did I have to come here with you?"

Edward looked down at his feet, and notably not at his companion, Roy Mustang.

"You didn't say no," Ed answered, scowling down at the sand under his boots.

"Have you ever seen me say no to Hawkeye?"

"No." Ed finally looked up, seeing Mustang giving him a rueful smile. It made his stomach flop over in happy circles.

"Telling a scary woman no is suicide. It's helpful to remember that."

Ed had to look away quickly to smother a laugh.

* * *

"Was that a good idea?" Riza Hawkeye asked, exiting the boat and helping the others drag it ashore. She peered into the distance, looking at the two dots that could have been people, or not. She hoped to catch a glimpse of the people so unceremoniously dumped on the island.

"Yes," Izumi answered, leaping out with her, and with Sig, they finished stranding the boat. "They need time together. I take it, that for all they worked together these past three years, they haven't spent much time together?"

"No," Riza said, shaking her head. "Ed was almost always off, searching for the Philosopher's Stone. Mustang kept tabs on him, and knew his character enough to keep him going in the right direction, but sitting and talking? No. I doubt they ever stayed in the same room for more than an hour."

"They need the time alone," Izumi repeated. "Both of them need time to sit and think. Ed, to understand the feelings he has, and for Mustang, to realize that Ed is not a child. They will need each other. A relationship is built on being able to enjoy each other's company, to speak of nothing and everything and to be silent. If they can come out of this with that understanding, perhaps they have a chance."

Riza smiled faintly. "I know it would be good for Roy to be in a different sort of relationship. He has always been easy with women, but with someone like Ed?" She shook her head, looking off at the island again. "He will be thrown off and confused. It will be good for him."

"If they don't kill each other first," Sig threw in, after a moment. Both women chuckled.

* * *

"So… Ed, you say you've been here before?" Roy asked, hoping for a moment to get his mental bearings. He had been rousted from his bed, herded unceremoniously out to the shores of this lake and then dumped with a half pint alchemist and then told not to do alchemy. He didn't know how this woman intended to enforce such a rule, especially if she wasn't there; but considering that she was about on par with Hawkeye in terms of scary female he wasn't going to break that rule. What was worse was that Hawkeye had sided with her when he had asked why he had to be dumped alongside Mrs. Curtis' wayward pupil.

His companion seemed to take offense. "Yeah- you think your lazy ass can handle being out in the wilderness? I never saw you out of your cushy office," Ed sneered, crossing his arms and looking up at him.

Ah, bickering. Bickering was good, bickering was normal, and it was a distraction from the many sights and smells that were caressing him with seductive fingers. The Other inside his mind was impatient with a desire to go investigate- Mustang was happy to have Ed's words as an anchor.

He looked down his nose at Ed, feeling a smile flicker over his face at how flustered the younger man was.

"Believe it or not, Ed, I did run the obstacle course, I have had training in survival, and Riza would drag me backpacking and hunting with her when we were children. I am not helpless, even without my alchemy." He snorted. "I'm out of practice, but not ignorant."

He noted the relief on Ed's face, like the younger had been afraid Mustang really wouldn't be able to cope. Roy tensed briefly, because he was having trouble coping; but it was with standing upright and not running into the woods immediately.

"Well, before I was so rudely interrupted, I was going to ask what the island is like, where we should set up camp and find water. I don't want to resort to eating grubs just yet." Mustang found he was absently sniffing the air.

Ed winced. "Ew. Food's not _that_ hard to find here. But don't think you can order me around out here 'cause I won't let you. We're on equal footing here, Mustang."

"I wasn't pulling rank on you, Ed," Mustang was exasperated. His jaw twitched. "I don't have a rank to _pull_ anymore. I'm aware you don't like being around me but if we're here, we might as well work together. Now, can we do that recon or are we going to stand around here all day until you realize I'm right?" He told himself to concentrate on how cute Ed was when he was mad. Ed was, really, when he got going- flopping and flailing about like fish out of water.

He hid the wince at the analogy. The Other in his mind seemed to think Ed would make a great playmate. Chase, wrestle, pounce, groom… Ed was a not quite an adult and playing would be lots of fun.

"Stop using the military jargon, kitty bastard. We're not with _them_ anymore."

"All right, pipsqueak."

"AHHH!"

Mustang felt a true smile spread over his face, and his shoulders relaxed as he enjoyed his dish of steamed Ed on sand. Though he did wonder about the nickname- kitty bastard seemed to be what Mrs. Curtis was calling him as well. He shouldn't be so tense, really. Here he was, in the sun, not dead, watching Ed writhe in a temper tantrum of Roy's devising. He shouldn't want to go catch that bird flying overhead, or find its eggs. He shouldn't be unconsciously scenting the air for predator and prey, as his ears tracked down the sound of rushing water away from the ocean.

"You're teasing me!" Edward accused, jabbing his finger into Roy's chest. Roy snickered, trying to hide that he'd been caught flat footed. Ed had never really gotten that point before. "You realize you're acting like a five year old," he sniffed, crossing his arms. "Being a pompous ass just because you like getting me riled up. For such a high ranking bastard, you shouldn't be resorting to grade school tactics," Ed sniffed, before straightening to his full height and lifting his chin.

Since Roy had awakened, Ed had been _doing_ that. Fullmetal had started showing flashes of insight into Roy's own character that Ed had never done before. Granted, some of these were things that a more mature person would have noticed, but it was _Edward_.

He heard a rodent, maybe a squirrel or a rabbit- something chewing. There was a heavy drone that could have been any number of insects. Roy tried to push that back into the peripheral, where it belonged.

Directing his attention to Edward again, he lifted his eyebrows. . "Ah, I was right. We are going to stand here while you blow me over with hot air before we actually get anything done."

"You. Are. An. Ass!" Ed bit out each word, losing his composure, which had been Mustang's intent all along.

"Yes, I am an ass. I'm a bastard. We've established this."

There was movement, something diving for cover. His eyes were drawn to it before he could stop himself and his muscles went rigid as he fought the urge to fly in after it. "I want to go looking around, Ed." His smile turned strained. "I want to see what's out there. I don't…" Mustang trailed off, and took a deep breath. "I don't hear any crashing noises- so there aren't any truly large animals around. There are the sounds of smaller creatures, insects, and I think I hear a stream nearby. I _need _to get moving, Ed." Roy felt strange to be beseeching Ed, but he had to make Ed understand. Roy carefully tasted the scents, closing his eyes. "There aren't any predators here that could hurt us and no humans other than you."

The normalcy of the situation evaporated when Mustang looked down to see Ed's guilt ridden face.

"Other than _us_, Mustang," Edward whispered. "Other than _us_."

Mustang looked away. Somehow, in the course of the past month, he had been put on Edward's guilt list. To know that a fifteen year old boy felt he had to look after you was… uncomfortable.

"Are we going to move now or do I have to ask again?"

Ed swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, let's go."

Roy could feel Ed's eyes on him and he didn't look back when they skirted the edge of the trees, looking for a path. He didn't need his eyes to know exactly where the younger man was. He could hear him, hear his heart, and as wind eddied, it carried Ed's scent with it.

Human was how Ed smelled, but Roy could enjoy the smell of a human while the Other barely tolerated it. Ed smelled quite human, and for some reason he smelled like _wanting_ almost all the time now.

There had been a lot that Mustang had missed when he had been out- like the nickname, like why Ed had suddenly entered puberty, and why… He told himself to stop. He had to get on with his life and-

SQUIRREL!

* * *

"Dammit, kitty bastard!" Ed yelled helplessly as his cohort suddenly dived into the underbrush, chasing after something Edward hadn't seen. "Stop doing that! Kitty bastard, come back here!"

The man, to his surprise, halted. Ed, however, did not.

The principle of inertia states that objects at rest, stay at rest. Objects in motion, stay in motion. Both change when they are acted upon by an equal or greater force. Ed, of course, had one hell of a lot of force, and it ended with a predictable result. Automail and flesh collided with flesh sending them into the carpet of leaves on the forest floor, skidding a few feet before they came to a stop against large tree.

"You know," Ed heard the ex-Colonel's voice coming from somewhere underneath him. The man also sounded somewhat squashed and breathless. "If you had wanted to be on top that badly…"

Ed's thoughts screeched to a halt. Under normal circumstances that would warrant yelling and flailing and comments about how it had been Mustang running off after a random squirrel, but even a half hearted innuendo left him sputtering. Not to mention the fact that he was _on top_ of Mustang. On top of him, and…

"Do you mind getting your automail off me?" Mustang's voice was still muffled.

Oh, shit.

Ed looked down, and realized that his automail hand was _on Mustang's ass._ More to the point, it was _squeezing _said ass. He had enough time to wish it was his flesh hand before realizing he was a _dead man_ if he kept this up, because Mustang was starting to move. There was chuffing sound, more humming, and a hiss and Ed leapt to his feet, shuffling backwards through the detritus layer on the forest floor and stumbling over a hidden rock. His arms wind-milled while he fought to keep his balance.

"Uh- I'm sorry, kitty bastard… you okay?" Did he have to squeak like that? Yes he did. Considering that the kitty bastard hadn't turned around but was actually hunched over like he was crouching to pounce… Oh yes. Did he mention he remembered Mustang's teeth?

The silence stretched out as Mustang stood, turning around with the full weight of his former authority and power, and Ed swallowed nervously. He told himself he had _not_ enjoyed touching Mustang's behind. He added, quickly, that he hadn't been staring either. Besides, Mustang hadn't remembered Ed's little confession. He didn't remember the shower incident, which, dammit, had the undesirable effect of reminding Ed how desirable the man in front of him was. Dammit.

Those really beautiful dark eyes were pinning him, and it crashed down on Ed that he had no idea what to do when the object of his affection was sane and conscious. Hell, he had no idea how to begin. It wasn't like Roy Mustang would ever be interested in a half metal freak and…

He didn't know what Mustang saw at that moment, but it made the man's pale skin fade to the color of weathered bone. The man's solid stance wavered, like a tree under hard winds and Ed really wanted to know what was going on in the other man's head right then.

Ed hoped there wasn't a bulge in his pants.

The silence continued, his kitty bastard closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before licking his lips.

"Ah… well. We do need to catch dinner," Mustang said, voice soft and breathy. He seemed even more shaken than Ed. Ed uneasily realized that the man had to be even more shocked than Ed was at Roy's sudden dash into the forest. What would it be like to suddenly lose control of your body like that?

So, Edward nodded. "There's game trails, some tide pools for fish." He didn't even care now that he had been pissed off by Mustang's tone earlier. "Come on."

He didn't notice the sudden blush that stained Mustang's face.

* * *

Brigadier General Basque Gran frowned as he looked down at the reports he had gotten in concerns to the now defunct and ruined Lab 5. They had managed to round up the more stupid or obvious chimeras. Tucker, however, was still missing, along with the more intelligent results of Marco's research. Some of the prisoners from the adjacent penitentiary were gone- including that nut job Kimbly.

Mustang, his prize, and the masterpiece he had worked so hard to claim… The man had apparently disappeared. He knew it could be no one else but Fullmetal and his brother, and the former officer's staff. They were staying out of his jurisdiction, and thus he could not officially go after them. Lab 5 had not officially existed, so there could be no press coverage, no official manhunts. Fullmetal had merely dropped from the public's eye, and Mustang's staff was careful to keep their appearance of innocence.

What was especially irksome was that the Fuhrer himself was staying Gran's hand.

So… he would have to get… creative.

The man standing in front of his desk was not a trustworthy person. Yet he was reliable in that he could be predicted to be cunning and deceitful, and would always make the choice for war. Like Gran, he enjoyed destruction about him. His lust for power was different than Gran's own, but it was one he understood and Gran knew he could use it.

"I'm sure you understand, Archer, the reason that I'm giving you this assignment."

Gran tossed the mission briefing on to his desk, watching Lt. Colonel Frank Archer's face as he picked up the packet. It had the names of the people he was to search for, any pertinent information on the search, as well as people he should avoid. If he balked, or showed too much curiosity in the wrong places (something he usually did not do) Gran would have him killed.

The pale man's expression did not change as his watery eyes perused the packet.

"General, is the list correct?"

Good. He hadn't tried to contradict Gran.

"It is. The people there are ones that were in my prison, tools we had kept for upcoming wars. There was a prison break several weeks ago and we could not leak this information to the general public, or even to the majority of the military. We're fairly sure that former Colonel's staff was involved, as well as the Fullmetal Alchemist. There are even wild reports that the Alchemist Killer, Scar, was there. This is a very delicate situation, as I'm sure you can see, Lieutenant Colonel. Every precaution must be taken to keep the public from knowing that we did not execute these prisoners. However… my gratitude, as well as the Fuhrer's, will be great to the person who brings these valuable weapons back to us intact."

Archer blinked slowly, his expression not changing in the slightest. "It is always an honor to serve my country, Brigadier General." He followed this was a perfect parade ground salute, turning crisply and leaving the office without another word. Gran smiled in satisfaction.

The Iron Blood Alchemist did not give up his pets without a fight.

On that note...

He picked up the receiver of his ornate telephone, dialing a number he had received as part of his background check on Fullmetal. Oh, yes, he would make sure that his pet came back to him…

* * *

Pinako Rockbell watched as her granddaughter looked up from the metal shell she had been fabricating, throwing herself off balance as she dived for the insistently ringing telephone. Grabbing the receiver, she took a deep breath to compose herself, pausing before opening her mouth as she rattled off their business greeting.

"Hello, Rockbell Automail Engineers, makers of fine automail since- General Gran? Do you need to make an order?"

She stopped as she was spoken over, and Pinako saw her granddaughter's eyebrows knit along with a confused frown. "A fugitive?"

Pinako knew that most of her family's dealings with the military tended to end in tragedy, and somehow she knew this one would be more of the same.

"The… the man who…"

The elderly woman nearly grabbed the phone away from her granddaughter at the lost, wounded tone of her voice. A mask of blank shock slammed down over the girl's face. "You're saying that it was someone in the military who killed my parents?"

Pinako clamped the pipe stem between her teeth, marching over.

"And Ed and Al…"

"Sir," Pinako snapped, grabbing the phone and putting it to her ear. "I'm sure you have something important to say, and you can say it to me. However, I do know that Edward and Alphonse have nothing to do with the murder of my son and his wife."

The man on the other huffed. "_No, but they are in the company of a very dangerous man. Please contact the military if they should flee to Risembool."_

"If they are in the company of such a person, we'll let you know. Now, you've caused enough trouble for today. Good night."

Firmly she hung up the phone, disconnecting the call. The older woman suddenly felt the weight of all her years as she turned to see her beautiful granddaughter's composure crumble under what she had been told.

"Winry," she said softly, watching the tears start to fall. They had both come to terms with the loss years ago- unlike Ed and Al, they had learned that one had to get on with their lives and that death was a fact of that life. Yet to find out that the people they loved had indeed been murdered…

Pinako was an old woman. She could put aside her grief for the moment.

"Come here, sweetheart," she said quietly, opening up her arms and Winry stepped forward, covering her face with her hands. Pinako could see her gritted teeth but not the tears in her eyes.

"Granny, do you really think Ed and Al would-"

"No, honey, of course not. If they do come home and bring someone, you know they have to have a good reason. The military lies, sweetheart." The girl put her blond head on her grandmother's shoulder, going limp and sobbed. "We know that. So we'll put our trust in two good boys and hope for the best. All right?"

Winry didn't answer, but continued to cry into her grandmother's shoulder for a long time.

* * *

Armstrong watched the large Ishballan man across from him, wondering at this strange turn of events. He personally bore no ill will to him, but at the same time, he knew who this man was.

He knew what the scarred man had done. Of course, he could understand it, and even sympathize.

"If I may ask a question," Alex said softly, as the other man soaked a small cloth in milk to give to the kitten they had taken turns nursing. "What made you stop your vengeance, and decide to help Alphonse?"

Ishballan red eyes were something Alex had gotten used to years ago. To see them glaring at him with fear, desperation, even hate… That was normal. Scar was now looking at him with speculation- and maybe pity?

"You know what I had been doing." Not a question. Alex nodded in acknowledgement, as no answer was needed.

"The question is why did you stop?"

Scar looked into the distance, before glancing down at his right arm. "I do not consciously cause my arm to do what it does. I have… an idea as to how it works. The first time I used it, it gave me information that I could not have otherwise understood. I am not an alchemist. That was my brother."

"Your brother- you have mentioned him before. He was the one that gave you that arm… yet from what I have understood your people have no alchemy. It is forbidden by your god."

Scar did not look up at Alex, but gently stroked the small head of the kitten in his hand. "Your people do not know our entire history- though that is not a fault of your own. Very few of our own people know our own ancient history, know the arcana that has been passed down to us."

Alex lifted his eyebrows, but he did not interrupt. He had respected the people of Ishbal from long before the war, and to hear another take on their history and culture was one he enjoyed. It was not an Armstrong tradition to appreciate the accomplishments of another civilization. He could not boast of such a thing, but he enjoyed it nonetheless.

"My brother… he was a scholar, brilliant and driven. When our land was at peace, before war came to us, he studied our own knowledge and that of Central. He gained a scholarship and learned abroad. From there he realized the similarities of your alchemy and our own heresy… the Grand Arcanum."

He inhaled sharply, making Scar look up at him, and the Ishballan smiled grimly. "My people developed and held on to our sciences long before the people of Amestris. You know that our knowledge of medicine went down a different track, but is as accurate as your own. So too was our knowledge of mathematics and chemistry. The only taboo science we held was alchemy… Did you ever stop to consider why?"

"I had been lead to believe it was for religious reasons," Alex answered, softly. He was grateful that Alphonse had left to forage.

"True, Ishbala forbids alchemy. Yet like most of our religious practices, there is a practical aspect as well, and I recall my brother and my teacher debating it. Supposedly in our past we developed alchemy, apart from influences from Amestris or other countries. Given the time depth mentioned, maybe even before your people did. Then we rejected it. There were those who continued the practice, but were eventually exiled. All I know about the when, was that it happened when Xerxes was destroyed." Scar's face was carefully blank, watching the befuddled, baffled expression cross the alchemist's face.

"But that long…"

Scar ignored him.

"My brother began his research into the Grand Arcanum after the death of his lover," Scar murmured. "He was trying to bring her back. He completed the transmutation…"

"Did he lose part of his body?" a young, ringing voice piped up, and both men turned to see Alphonse arrive, walking with the soft hollow clank that heralded his steps.

"Yes, but Ishbala did not grant her return to him. All that was there…"

"Was something not human," Alphonse completed the sentence. His voice was uninflected, without emotion. "And he lost part of his body."

Scar smiled without humor. "To this day I find there is a cruel irony that he lost his masculinity when trying to regain his lover. Though considering the concept of equivalent exchange, perhaps it is appropriate."

"Then what happened?" Armstrong asked, distracting them from the macabre memories.

"My brother was exiled from our lands. I stayed behind. Then the war with Central began, after they started assaulting our cities in the night."

"That," Armstrong began before holding his tongue. He of all people knew that the government lied. He nodded for Scar to continue.

"The war took a heavy toll on my people. Our cities were destroyed and the living slaughtered or made destitute. We were desperate… so desperate to take any hope offered us. So when my brother returned, claiming he could make the Philosopher's Stone…"

Alex felt as if he had taken a punch to the gut, while Alphonse rattled loudly. "Did he succeed?" the boy asked, voice becoming unnaturally high.

"No. Halfway into his research… I found him. Whatever he discovered, it shattered his mind. There was no choice but to flee. The last survivors of my city evacuated into the desert, and that was when the State Alchemist found us. There had been rumors, reports, that some of the Alchemists had tried to let people run away, or that they had broken down on the battle field, but this was not one of them. He began making people _explode_… then he began to toy with us."

Alphonse made a small noise, one of suffering, feeling the grief of another as his legs buckled and he sat with a clatter on the hard earth. Yet he did not ask Scar to stop.

"I tried to stop him, but… but he…" The scarred man gently touched his face and he did not need more words to express where the ghastly mark had come from.

"He took my arm, and was about to kill me when my brother intervened. I don't recall what happened afterwards… there were explosions and the screams of the dying, and when I awoke, I had this arm."

The kitten mewed, and Scar gently stroked it again, this time with the arm decorated in the warped alchemy circle. "My brother was covered in these marks, and they were gone when I awoke. He told me he had given me the arm, had used it to heal and sustain me or else I would have died. That within it… It held the souls of our slaughtered people."

"And thus, my brother died."

Alex and Alphonse looked at each other.

"How could they do that?" Alphonse finally burst out. "How could they go killing civilians like that!" He became hysterical. "I know they said that the Ishballans started it but how could they kill people who weren't fighting-"

"The Ishballan people did not start the war, Alphonse. We were attacked first," Scar interrupted harshly. "What Central did was commit genocide."

"Why? Why kill people for no reason?"

Alex had been looking at Scar's arm, rubbing his chin. "Why indeed? People do desperate things when hope is lost…"

* * *

It seemed ironic, at least to Roy, that when they finally stopped bickering and started working together, that they got the job done incredibly quickly. Edward actually did remember a rock shelter they could use, once Mustang had decreed that there was nothing living there. Together they had plugged up the holes in the ceiling and foraged for food and firewood before a storm had crept up on them.

Roy had been busy when the first misting of rain had began, totally engrossed in watching the flickering shadows of fish underneath the surface of the water. At that point he had gotten two midsized fish, had darted in to get another when a voice called him back to reality.

"Hey- are you just going to stand out in the rain? You know you're useless around water!"

Mustang jumped, head jerking upwards, eyes widening and hissing at being disturbed so callously before cursing.

"Ed- that was our dinner!"

"One each will do until morning. I found some mushrooms and tubers. Get your ass over here before you get sick!"

Looking up, Mustang realized he had smelled the heavy scent of water for some time, but he was also thoroughly damp and the wind had severely picked up. He narrowed his eyes, seeing the distant sparks of lightening and decided that Ed had a point. The being wet part didn't bother him- it wasn't like he had his gloves or was allowed to use alchemy anyways- but he didn't need to be struck by lightening.

Growling to himself, he winced… Mostly because he didn't want to be in such close quarters with Ed while the storm wore itself out.

He recalled how earlier that day when Ed had literally smacked into him. It had been unnerving enough to go running after a small rodent, but he had managed to stop himself once Edward called out to him. In a typical moment of Elric insanity they collided, and Mustang found himself a crash pad for a small, extremely heavy body.

Embarrassing as hell, yes, and also painful because there were rocks dinging in tender places. Then he had realized it was not a rock on his ass- it was cold and hard, and it was kneading on him through the fabric. It was on top, and judging from the angle… It could have only been Edward's automail.

His comment about Ed being on top was flippant, but the Other in his mind decided to speak up and point out the sudden spike in Edward's scent. The wanting and arousal had become more pronounced- and Roy wondered how he had could have _not noticed_. The smell was whenever Edward was near Mustang- looking or close, for whatever reason. Ed desired him.

Well, he had dealt with people wanting him before. Then the Other added its own commentary again. Ed's body was familiar against his, warm and comfortable. It had the same kind of rightness that came with chasing the squirrel and now with grabbing fish out of the water. It was something he needed to do, should do, wanted to do… which was fight with Ed, let himself be pounced and submit to mating.

He shuddered, head jerking up when the wind rushed harder over the small island.

"Are you coming?" a voice called, and Mustang saw Ed standing in front of their shelter, waving at him to hurry.

With a heavy sigh, he did so, carrying his catch back with him.

* * *

"Can we eat yet?"

"No."

Years of Hawkeye, Hughes, and being in the military had taught Mustang quite a few ways to stretch or supplement camp rations or even outright use something else. He suspected Ed probably knew more than he did, but this particular trick was something Riza had enjoyed.

"Can we eat yet?"

"The fish isn't cooked, Ed. No."

Perhaps not the most sanitary method, but stuffing fish with mushrooms and roots and wrapping them in clay, then baking them in hot ashes until the clay was one of the few campfire foods he enjoyed. It also meant he wasn't giving into to the urge to eat the fish while they were still alive. He was glad Ed hadn't been there to see him try.

"But Mustang-"

"I saw the berry stains, Ed. You ate. I haven't. No."

The younger man whined, sitting across from him in the rock shelter and pouting. "I know you like this but it takes forever. Didn't Hawkeye teach you any other campfire cooking?"  
Mustang blinked, looking up at him from where he had been carefully not drooling. "How did you know she taught me?"

"Um… well. Who else would have taught you?"

Good point, but it wasn't well known that Riza had been the one to drag his behind, along with the rest of him, over miles of terrain when they were children. She may have been younger than he was, but it was what she had loved. Since she didn't like leaving her king to the mercy of the book dragons, he had to go with her.

He didn't stop the smile at the memory. Then he looked up, noticing that Ed's golden eyes were on him. They were smiling, taking in the details of Mustang's moment of fond memory. He looked… so unlike Ed right then. He rarely got to see Ed be contemplative or thoughtful away from Al.

"Edward… Why?"

"Why, what?"

"Why did you save me?"

Edward looked down to the dying fire. It made sparks in his eyes and made his hair gleam… and the Other in Mustang's head pointed out, gleefully, that he truly would be an attractive mate. They would make beautiful kittens. Such a thought, as soon as it formed in his head, made Mustang wonder at his future sanity.

He closed his eyes against Edward, to keep away the image of the handsome young man in tight leather.

"I left you, when I knew you hurt."

Mustang's eyes opened again, head lifting to give him a confused stare. "Edward- when you left I wasn't-"

"I knew you had those flashbacks, and I knew that Gran had seen you have those flashbacks. I saw him see you and I should have realized he would take advantage of that."

"I made you go-"

"Yeah, yeah. To get me out of the line of fire when the shit hit the fan, I know. I still let you push me away. I shouldn't have- I should have been there when they tried to come after me. I was the chink in your armor and they found that out," Edward whispered, curling up and hugging his knees. The younger man buried his face in his arms, all the lines in his body screaming _guilt_.

"I shouldn't have allowed them to discover I had a chink in my armor to begin with, Ed," Mustang countered firmly. "I didn't fight back when they came for me-"

"Right, cause you wanted to protect me and Al. You felt guilty because you didn't help those doctors- do you feel better now?" He is face was still buried, and Mustang clenched his fists. He was happy Ed was talking to his knees and couldn't see him…

"Yes. I was happy." The words left ashes in his mouth. "I was also terrified, but I got what I deserved, Ed."

"No, Gran's the bastard who deserves to lose his humanity or his dick. Preferably in the most humiliating and painful way imaginable," Ed hissed. "Or both. Mustang, I know you didn't want to kill the Rockbells. I know you would have preferred to have died when that happened. I know you were also scared to death. You were young and you were stupid. If you can sit here and face me after what I did, trying to bring back my mother, then I can forgive you for shooting two innocent people. You were a weapon back then, Mustang. You let yourself be used. You made a bad choice, but when the time came…" Edward looked lost, and Mustang found that disturbed him more than his sudden inexplicable knowledge. "When the time came, you decided differently."

"Edward… how did you find out I killed the Rockbells?"

Thoughts of the dying fire and fish were set aside. There was no way that Ed could have known the names of the married couple he had killed- he was certain that he would have been dead by the boy's hand in that case.

The blond looked up, eyes wide as a deer in headlights. He had gone pale under the tan, and Roy could hear his heart revving with his breathing. The young man wanted to flee, but something kept him from moving.

"How much do you remember of your time between Lab 5 and waking up?" Edward asked quietly.

"Not much." Mustang exhaled. "Most of it didn't make sense. There were times when I knew I was with people who meant something to me, but I had no names for them, until the end. Then I knew you were there, but I didn't. I was watching through my own eyes from someplace else. I couldn't find the words to put with what I smelled or saw or heard." There were other things he wanted to say, but it was difficult to translate them into terms a human would understand. The not-place, the feeling of possessiveness about Edward himself and the others that were his territory… Words could not describe it properly.

"I never looked behind me," he tried to explain. "I knew there were things I didn't want to know. There was a light that came from nowhere, broken things, no sights or smells but the thing behind me."

Ed's breathing had stopped for a moment as the words left Mustang's mouth.

"Do you remember anything else?"

"People would come and go. I don't remember what we said…"

"You were before the Gate, Mustang. The body and soul is connected through the mind and when they tried to break yours, you wound up there. The Gate of Truth, or whatever that thing is, was where you were. I somehow went after you… and I saw your memories scattered in front of you. I tried touching them and I saw things." Edward swallowed, hugging his knees tighter. "I'm sorry, Mustang. I saw your memories and I shouldn't have. I never had permission." He squirmed away from the other man's gaze, as far as he could into the corner.

Roy's jaw had gone slack. "You saw."

"Not just saw," he said, voice muffled from where his mouth was against his folded arms. "I _was_ you, Mustang. So I know you felt guilty. I know you felt remorse. I know you played king and knight with Riza when you would have rather been reading. I was in your mind when you first killed someone and when your teacher died. I felt devastated with you when Hughes couldn't love you back." Ed's body shivered violently and his voice cracked. "And I know you would have let Winry shoot you when you came to Risembool to find us. I saw… not everything, but I saw a lot, and I'm sorry."

Air rattled in Roy's chest as he listened, feeling vaguely detached as his life was laid bare before him.

"I didn't see everything," Edward muttered. He looked guilty again. "That one memory… it was what had broken you. All the other pieces had come from that one."

No way to hide. Ed had seen him, and…

"Why haven't you killed me yet?"

"Because I _know _you didn't want to do it! I know you didn't want to hurt them. You were stupid but if we were killing people for being stupid, Al and I would be on the top of the list. So get the fuck over it," Ed shrieked. "I don't hate you, okay?"

Mustang blinked, because the words triggered something, a memory of-

"_You're lucky that I love you, bastard."_

This was just getting to be too much.

"Edward…"

The Other then pointed out that it didn't like Edward looking so depressed. Go snuggle. Smell him, make sure he's not injured. You've never liked seeing him hurt or sad. Holding him is what you want- and if it leads to other things, you wouldn't mind too much, would you?

_Yes I would- he's fifteen. Fifteen and my subordinate! I should be taking care of him, not the other way around!_

_So, take care of him. _

_You can't be serious. He's Ed. I can't just- just-_

It would have been so much easier if Edward was a stranger. Someone he could indulge in mindless lust with and never see again. Edward wasn't a floozy or someone he could love and leave- completely ignoring the subordinate/commander, that they were both _men_, that Mustang wasn't even truly human anymore…

He liked Edward, cared for him, and even if the animal living in his head thought it was a wonderful idea to mate with him and relieve the tension, Roy Mustang couldn't let that happen.

_I'm not going to be satisfied until I touch him_, the Other insisted. Mustang groaned, swallowing hard, and looked up to see Edward's wide eyes. Mustang didn't know how long he had been growling, but it was long enough that his throat was getting sore.

_If I touch him will you shut up about mating? _

He didn't get an answer- not that he really had been talking to anyone but himself- but Mustang got to a crouch and started to edge around the fire.

"Ed, I don't really know what happened when I was… gone. Though I think… I have some of it figured out." He approached slowly, like he was stalking large prey. The Other had an unnerving habit of inserting thoughts into his own. "And did I," he began, sitting next to Ed and cautiously putting his head on Ed's shoulder. "Did I do this a lot?"

He could hear Ed's heart speed up again.

"Yes."

Roy exhaled. "Ed, I'm not mad. I'm ashamed that you saw what I am, and I wish you hadn't seen it."

"You're a human being. Sure, you're a kitty bastard but you take care of people and… I can't believe I'm trying to cheer you up, bastard." Mustang could feel the heat from Edward's face as he flushed.

Mustang closed his eyes, inhaling the warm smell coming off Edward and letting a soft hum come from his chest. This felt good, and right, and the nervous energy drained away.

It was raining in sheets, and thought fled as the cat in him enjoyed the moment of being in a warm place with what was his.

"Well, don't go to any extra trouble on my account. You can probably eat now if you want."

Ed snorted, but he didn't move as Mustang yawned. The feeling of fingers in his hair was soothing even if it was strange…

"I'll eat later. Sweet dreams."

He could deal with the rest of the shit when the rain had stopped, after his nap.

Really.

To be continued.

A/N: Yay. My chapters keep getting longer, so that means it's going to be longer between updates, but I hope it will be worth it.

Thank everyone who has reviewed.

Happy birthday, ZaKai.


	19. Chapter 19

**Departure XIX**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairing: Roy and Ed, others mentioned

Warnings: Shonen-ai, chimera!Roy, divergence from episode 13.

A/N: And here I go again.

Morning on Yock Island dawned to a ragged sky, and Edward's nose itched. His flesh hand was numb from where it had gotten underneath Mustang's body and his bladder was about to burst.

There was no way in hell he was moving.

The reason was that Mustang was still pressed up against him, on his flesh shoulder and had slept there the whole night. The easy, slack expression on Roy's face was very gratifying. He had gotten to see a genuine smile, and now this and it reminded him he _could_ help someone, could actually do some good.

The cares he had worn and Ed had not noticed were gone, leaving Mustang to look like a man about twenty, not twenty-nine. Edward shied away from that thought, but it was nicer to think of a five year age difference instead of a fourteen year one.

There was a soft sigh from the older man, but he settled again. Ed let his head drop, resting his cheek on Mustang's black hair. They were both going to need to a bath soon, but Roy didn't smell like they had been out in the woods for over a day now. Edward freed his living hand to pet Mustang's hair.

Ed closed his eyes and nearly went back to sleep. He had gotten used to sharing warmth with Mustang and it was the most contact he had with another body since before they had transmuted his mother. It was nice…

He opened his eyes to find Mustang's dark ones smiling sleepily into his own.

The realization that he was petting an aware Mustang, cuddled against him, and probably smelling vaguely of lust crashed into him and he could feel his cheeks burn under Mustang's gaze. He quickly dropped his hand and looked away.

"Don't stop. It's nice."

"Uh-"

"Ed… I'm not going to pretend this is normal or even a good idea. However," and his expression turned wry and pained at the same time. "I'm trying to find a compromise with myself. Petting me is the lesser of two evils right now, so I don't really care. It makes you calm, it makes me want to purr- which I don't think I can do- and I don't see why not right now until we find out otherwise."

At least he was taking this well. Edward had to wonder if he was pretending or if he truly was adapting to his new situation, and if that was a good or not. His mind went from its non-thinking to full gear, concentrating on what he knew of chimeras and what could be done to fix Mustang-

To complete non-thought again when Mustang got up and stretched languidly.

Nope… thinking was overrated. It was much nicer to drool over the pants being too large and dropping around Mustang's hips, showing some skin.

"Well… what do we need to get done today, Ed?"

_I need to get into your pants. Or out of them. Or- or something- Dammit, why can't you be a dirty old man? Or have warts? Why the hell did I have to fall for Mr. Sex on Legs?_

Great, now was starting to get a hard on _and_ his bladder was full.

Mustang was looking at him with an amused smirk, as if he knew exactly what was going on in Ed's mind as he brushed past him to run into the bushes.

"I guess this means I get to eat your fish?"

"_Don't you dare kitty bastard!"_

_

* * *

_

Roy noted that the day looked to be a hot one- he had already rolled up his pants and had shucked his shoes, and the only reason he didn't get rid of his shirt was because of sunburn. There were more clouds on the horizon but the moment was starting to get quite sunny.

"Hey, bastard…" An impish smile had suddenly appeared on Ed's face. "Let's escape!"

"How?" Roy asked, eyebrows going up and turning to his blond fellow exile. "She told us not to use alchemy."

Ed opened his mouth.

"It would be amusing to see you try to swim," Roy added. "You'd sink like a lead weight."

Ed scowled. "Well, what about you? Cat's hate water, don't they?"

"I don't know- but I'm in the water and you aren't." An opportunity for mischief presented itself, and Roy Mustang, human or cat, could not resist. "I guess you're afraid you'd rust."

"Who are you calling so short he'd drown in a mud puddle you arrogant furless feline?"

Roy's answer was a smirk- and he knew it was unfair- before he crouched, nearly sitting in the water. "It's not that deep, Edward. Even you could wade out here with no problems."

With a huff, Edward shucked his boots, and yanked up the cuffs of his leather pants until they rode over his knees and stepped into the cool water. Mustang took a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship that had gone in to Ed's automail- they were excellent prosthetics.

When he had awakened that morning to find he was still resting against Edward, he hadn't really known what to think. It had been the first time in ages that he could remember sleeping that well. It had been almost a pleasure, and the only thing that would have made it better was a real bed and a bath. Edward had awakened him with his gentle touch and Roy had allowed himself to enjoy it. It was almost funny, in a sadly ironic way, to be able to smell Edward's pheromones. Young men did that… but to be the object of that lust was confusing.

Not to mention frustrating. Yes, he liked men, liked them nearly as well as women. Edward was still young, and it was all too easy to remember that small body on the bed, wrapped in bandages.

And thus…

Wait for it… Surging upwards when Ed took that one step too far, Mustang splashed him.

"Kitty bastard! What the fuck?" Edward shrieked, hissing like he was the feline.

"You need a bath, Ed," Mustang snickered, then outright pointed and laughed.

"A bath? _A bath? Bastard! _Take this!"

The water war was on, both splashing each other unmercifully. As they weren't allowed to use alchemy, all they could rely on was their arms and hands. Mustang's eyes went wide a moment before Edward jumped on him, throwing both into the deeper water, dunking them both.

"E-" The words were lost in a gurgle of water before they both got to the surface. Mustang smiled, this time baring his teeth and pushed Edward backwards, back into shallower water.

They continued to wrestle in the mud and sand, rolling over and over back and forth in the water. No blows were exchanged, because a punch or even a smack would have stopped the battle and they both forgot what it was they were fighting about- just that they were having fun doing it.

"You're filthy," Mustang gasped, as they broke apart and got to their feet, staggering and sizing each other up again.

"So are you."

"And whose fault is that?"

"Stuff it, asshole…"

"You wish."

The sudden embarrassed flush on Edward's face told Mustang more than he wanted to know and he regretted uttering those words. Nothing had been said about Edward's feelings and… Dammit, he didn't like that shy puppy look on Ed's face. On a whim, he approached Edward…And licked his face.

The shocked expression was priceless, and he felt a true smile spread over his face before Edward kicked his feet out from under him. The tumble knocked the wind from his chest but he rolled out of the way before Edward could drop an ax kick, denting the soft sand.

"Bloody hell- Ed-"

The embarrassment on his face was obvious, though Mustang didn't know it would go _this_ far… Rolling upwards and avoiding another blow, the Other commented that fighting for dominance was stupid. He knew exactly what position he wanted- so stop fighting. Sure, fighting before sex was fun but really… This was just ridiculous.

Roy growled, and his body hunched over when Edward tried to connect with his automail fist. Then the Other agreed- this wasn't playing anymore. He was acting like an indignant kitten, not an adult Roy wanted as a potential mate.

The hunch turned into a bound, diving at Edward and pinning him backwards, putting his teeth to Ed's throat before he had even realized he had moved. It had been completely unexpected, thus it managed to be effective as their bodies collided with a fleshy thump- Edward was the more physical fighter, Mustang preferred to destroy things from a distance with alchemy.

The skin of Ed's neck was soft and salty and he licked it briefly, making a chuffing noise as Edward froze. It only lasted a moment, and Mustang was thrown backwards with Edward hovering over him.

Roy and Ed glared, teeth mutually bared and getting their wind back, when Mustang realized that Ed looked cross-eyed. It was out of place, a ridiculous observation, and it made him giggle.

It was an absurd giggle, but damn, the situation was absurd. Here they were, wrestling like school children over being too reluctant to admit they liked each other. Edward was drenched and the mud in his hair, turning it into messy strings. Roy could only imagine how he himself looked.

"Kitty bastard, what's so funny?" Ed's voice was a low growl… It made a strange, sweet tingle go down Mustang's back.

"You- us- this! We had a _water fight_, we _wrestled_ like a pair of kittens and now we're at each other's throats because you were _embarrassed_! God, Ed, what's not to laugh about?"

One of Ed's thighs was between his legs, brushing over his groin. It should not have felt as nice as it did. It should not have felt so pleasant to have Ed lying on top of him… Not when there were so many things wrong with it.

* * *

Since Edward had seen Roy's memories, he had learned a thing or three about seeing things through another person's eyes. He hadn't really done it before, but he recalled how he had often seemed to Mustang. Cute when mad, brilliant, capable of changing the world…

He imagined how he had to look _right then_. Filthy, sprawled on top of him, reacting to a stupid remark with more violence than was sane. It was stupid. The entire damned situation was fucking mad. He was in love- and he could admit that now- and he had nearly beaten the shit out of Roy because he couldn't handle a stupid joke? What the fuck?

A laugh fought its way clear of Ed's chest as he went limp, draped over Mustang's body. He quickly buried his face in Mustang's shoulder to stifle the laughter, but all it did was force the spasms down into his body, which was nearly as bad as the guffaws from the older man.

They lay there, just laughing. It released the tension, a relief after the confusing emotions that he could not answer. There was another shove, and Ed blinked when he realized he was kneeling between Mustang's legs which were nearly wrapped around him. They were still laughing.

They were laughing so hard they were leaning on each other to stay upright. It didn't work- they both fell to the side, still laughing.

Ed grinned over at Mustang, silly, feeling mortified and wonderful and high on the sight of Mustang _laughing_; that real smile bright and shining and sweet. It was better than his sleeping face, because while that was peace, this was contentment. Why the hell had they been fighting? It was stupid, because he loved Mustang. Different from Al, always different from Al, but it left warmth there in his chest that he had missed and…

He leaned in, gently pressing his lips against Roy Mustang's, cresting with that wave of joy and riding it until the end.

* * *

Roy inhaled when he felt Edward's mouth press against his. It was an awkward kiss, inexperienced but unafraid and eager. It caught him off guard, but his mouth opened, allowing Edward to try using his tongue.

Edward did- again with enthusiasm, awkward but sweet and Mustang found himself rolled onto his back without prompting. His hands went still before they could touch the younger man, as he nearly froze in confusion. This was Ed. This was Ed _kissing him_. This was Ed kissing him, lying on top of him and he was _letting it happen_. And by god… he was enjoying it. It was time- they had fought, Ed had pretty much won, and then it would be time for mating and nesting and…

Roy bit his tongue- trying to fight free of the miasma in his head. He remembered a kiss, and words… A strange empty place… Dammit, no- but Ed felt _good_. Deliciously good, warm wet lips sliding against his own- he was definitely a genius if he was already getting the basics of kissing. Edward's body fit so well against his, warm and cool contrasting as the younger man shifted.

Mustang's legs widened, accommodating the body between them, arching up to rub his groin against Ed's stomach. There was an answering thrust against his body.

This was getting out of hand. He had to stop this…

Ed's hand went to his shirt stroking his stomach and he wished he could _purr_.

No- he had to stop this- but didn't he want this? He needed a mate eventually and he knew Edward would be good…

_This is Edward! I don't care how good he feels, I care about him and that means I can't just let him fuck me!_

Didn't matter… He needed a mate, and Ed was a good choice and why the hell did he keep fighting this?

_Because-_

The light above Edward dimmed, and he really didn't want to take his attention away from the kitty bastard who moved so obligingly underneath him. Roy wasn't pushing him away and wasn't telling Edward to stop, seeming to enjoying it almost as much as Edward was. He had stopped thinking, nothing registering much beyond the sound of the Roy's soft whines, the slick slide of lips or his rough tongue. He could feel the bulge of Roy's cock pressing against his stomach and wanted to purr himself. Mustang wanted him _back_-

The shadow in the corner of his vision flickered, and Edward was suddenly sprawled backwards, panting as Mustang sat up, eyes flicking back and forth.

"If this is another fucking squirrel I'm going to _kill_ you," Ed panted, his erection protesting its confinement.

Mustang didn't answer, except for the confusion on his face as he licked his lips, and then arched his tongue, tasting the air.

"I saw someone here," he answered, getting to his feet and wobbling on weak knees. Edward wanted to purr himself at the sight- Roy was flushed and his lips swollen and wet from kissing. Why was he standing? He didn't care if there was… oh _hell_ no.

"There was a guy here, when Al and I got dumped five years ago. He made our lives hell, nearly killed us." Ed awkwardly got to his feet, noticing that Roy had yet to look at him.

That was weird.

"I didn't smell anyone else on the island. Maybe I missed it," Roy muttered, though he looked flustered.

So did Ed- he hadn't realized _how_ hot and bothered he could become. Yet Mustang still hadn't said anything.

"I didn't see anyone though, and he didn't attack us like he did when I was a kid," Edward offered. "Maybe it was another squirrel?"

Roy turned to him, nostrils flaring as he seemed to fight for control. "All I smell is me, you, and something rotting."

"Mustang?" Hell- what was he supposed to call him? Did a kiss mean he could use his first name? Edward reached out, meaning to take his arm, because hell they had been making out and Edward was still so hard he could barely think.

The other man flinched, hands trembling as he looked down at Edward. "Stop."

"Mustang?" his voice rose incredulously.

"Ed, stop, please."

"_Why?"_

Mustang flinched again, reaching out briefly before pulling his hands back. Edward could _see_ that he was still aroused, still interested.

"Because- because!" Roy fisted his hair, pulling, eyes unfocused. "I can't think- dammit- can't control- Ed- why the hell do you want me? I'm a goddamned murderer! I'm nearly twice your age! Why can't I say _no?_"

"You can't say no? You didn't _enjoy_ that? You're a fucking liar cause I can fucking tell you enjoyed it! Fuck- we _didn't fuck!_ I like you, okay?" Ed stopped and licked his lips, arms hanging loose and he moaned softly. "Hell, you're the first man- first _person_- I've ever liked like this."

"That's why we should stop, Ed," Mustang ground out through clenched teeth. "One day you'll wake up and find someone you love."

"Like you and Hughes?" Edward knew this was hitting below the belt but it was damned uncomfortable in his pants right now. He almost regretted the wince he got from Mustang. "Really- tell me you got over him and I'll call you a liar again."

"Edward. What do you want from me?" he laughed briefly, without humor.

"You started to see me as more than a child, so give me credit for knowing what I want. I kissed you, remember? You're the infamous Colonel Slut; you don't want to stop because you're a prude."

Mustang took a breath through his teeth. "Ed… Anonymous fucking isn't the same as making love _with_ someone you care for- and my body won't let me think!"

"You care about me?" Ed couldn't stop the squeak in his voice- okay, he had known that intellectually but to hear him say it…

Mustang groaned, half growled and sighed.

"Let me get this straight- if I was a random stranger you would have sex with me without thinking but because you know me and care about me we can't?" Edward stared, eyebrows furrowed. "You're an idiot. Never thought you were that stupid…"

"Ed- I've never had sex with someone I cared about," Mustang muttered, still pulled over.

"There's a first for everything!" Ed shouted back.

"Dammit, you really want to have sex with me?" Moral objections would have been pointless, so he refrained from using them.

"Yes!" Ed answered. "_Now_ you understand!"

"How? We don't have anything to use for lube and we can't use alchemy!"

* * *

Roy couldn't believe he was doing this- but at least it would be stopping short of what the Other wanted… not that they really could. The idea of being "mated" by Ed still left a shiver going down his spine and he had a feeling that his body wouldn't accept the cheat… but it was better than having nothing and hell if he was going to bend over and be taken dry.

That hadn't occurred to him until a moment again and he winced.

And you _are_ going to be on bottom, the Other murmured in his mind. He shouldn't have enjoyed that thought so much. He would have a serious conversation with himself later about that- but now he wanted to take care of the tension in a sane, human way.

"We can't go all the way but we can work around it," Mustang murmured, leaning down to initiate the kiss and letting his hands reach for and run down Edward's hips. The gasp was soft as Mustang undid the smaller man's fly, sliding his hand inside the pants and boxers to find Ed's cock.

He stroked it idly, the soft sounds Edward made as they kissed making his own pants unbearably tight- he jumped when Edward dragged his fingers over the bulge there.

"I did want to get into your pants," Ed said, moving to reciprocate. Roy's thinking was moving south as rapidly as his blood, shivering a bit at the breeze. He managed to bring his eyes back up to Edward's face, to watch his reaction.

The younger man's face was flushed, eyes dreamy and dilated and the smell of arousal was thick on his skin. Beautiful… His hands had stilled on Edward's body, but he wanted to see the rest of him.

They shed the rest of their clothes, Edward awkwardly touching and petting while trying to hide his automail. The haze of lust made it hard for Mustang to think… Yet Edward was so adorable like this, losing his momentum and Roy kissed him again.

"Is out of them good enough?" he answered, smiling at the horrible pun and Ed's snicker. His lips shifted from Edward's mouth to jaw, laving his tongue over and down. He smiled against Ed's throat, listening to the younger man's gasp. Roy had to catch Ed quickly as his knees went weak.

Now that he had given in to the situation, he wrested some control from his hormones, enough to lie to the Other, who was sitting in the back of his mind and chuffing in approval.

The body he tasted was definitely not that of a boy. The last time he remembered seeing Ed with so little clothes, he had been covered in bandages, thin and frail. Now he was all power and definition. Yes, small and compact but most certainly no boy…

He gently pressed his teeth against Ed's neck, flicking his tongue over his pulse point, feeling it flutter. Roy carefully laid them both down, working his mouth over Ed's collar bone.

They were both getting impatient- the fight had been nearly enough foreplay, let alone the making out.

"Uh- are you doing what I think you're doing?" Ed muttered, lifting himself up on his elbows to look down at Roy's dark head as it began to work down his thighs. Roy didn't stop, though he paused, his clawed fingertips scratching lightly below the younger man's navel, making the flesh jump.

"Yes," Roy looked up, flashing him a smile, before lowering his mouth to Edward's cock.

The taste of _Edward_ in his mouth made his own need that much greater, but he reined himself in, kept his teeth to himself. Edward's cock was impressive- almost gagging Roy when he arched up into his mouth, before he grabbed Edward's hips.

He relaxed, letting Ed further down his throat, humming and rubbing the vein of Ed's cock with his tongue. He palmed Ed's balls, rolling them briefly- and Ed was keyed up enough that it didn't take long. He came with a gasp, legs shaking and toes curling as his hips jerked off the sand.

Roy kept caressing Edward's cock, pulling out the orgasm as long as he could, until the younger man was completely soft and pulled back, licking his lips.

Afterglow looked great on Ed.

He was still flushed and his body pliant, going limp and looking up at Roy with dazed eyes… And Roy leaned down, kissing him lightly before pulling him up.

"Now- I think you recall something called equivalent exchange?" he asked, hoarsely. Ed's eyes went from dreamy, to embarrassed, to wicked, and Roy lifted his flesh hand to his own mouth. Edward stared as he licked Ed's fingers, sucking softly and wetting them.

"Ed- please?" he asked, breathlessly as he laid down, taking Ed's fingers to his opening. "Touch me there?"

Edward's brows furrowed in confusion, but he allowed Mustang to guide him, pressing slowly and watching Roy's face.

Good- nice- tease- it wasn't quite what he wanted, what he needed- like a snack when you were starving. One finger, two… in and out… Ed's automail stroked over the inside of his thigh, almost afraid to get closer to his cock.

He reached over, taking Edward's metal hand with his own… lacing their fingers together and encircling his erection, helping smear the precome and easing their movements.

Roy shivered, mewling as he pushed into Edward's hands, fore and behind, feeling a delicious tingle run up his spine from his groin, his balls tightening and drawing up to his body. A moment later he came as well- spilling over their threaded fingers.

It was his turn to go limp, closing his eyes and humming after his release.

_Not enough_, the Other said. _It's not what you really needed… you'll find that out later._

_

* * *

_

The little boy had been there for as long as he could remember. That wasn't too long, but he was happy to be in a place with sunlight and breezes, away from the other place. What that place was, who knows, but he was happy to be away.

It was strange- because for the first time in his life he had met others. Others like himself, with arms and legs and heads and bodies like his. Until then there had only been the birds and animals who didn't talk to him.

They had almost seen him. Thankfully he had managed to hide- and the bigger one hadn't caught his scent. They had been playing, then fighting, then trying to eat each other… It really didn't make sense to him. Their words were covered up by the water on the beach as it shouted, and it seemed they would fight again…

Then the bigger one took a deep breath and put his hand on the smaller one's face…

The covering both had draped over their bodies was taken off as they attempted to devour one another. Eating, licking, growling- but they seemed to enjoy each other, and there was no bleeding.

They stopped, after they had both yelled about… something. Then they stopped, and started to pet each other, before pressing mouths together again. After that, they got into the water, getting rid of the sand. They made soft noises, talking softly, looking at each other and away. They would touch each other, small, flitting, fleeting…

He didn't really know what it was he was seeing. The two looked like him, were built like him, different but the same.

One had shiny parts… the other had talons. How bizarre…

He followed them for the rest of the day, watching them hunt together and explore, making each other laugh. He liked that.

* * *

"This is it?" Al asked, as they overlooked the small shanty town.

"I think so- I think this is where my brother mentioned studying… He didn't truly give the name, but he mentioned that it was a slum. He had found one of our exiles here to learn under. Someone who had studied our Great Art lived here," Scar answered, looking down through his sunglasses at what was obviously the town's dump.

Armstrong sighed, his ponderous bulk shifting. "I find it sad to learn that a people as persecuted as the Ishballans would exile any of their own, especially for studying part of their own heritage."

"We were afraid of alchemy. History has shown us how easily it can be abused… it is a great paradox. I know that it can be used for the betterment of humanity, yet it has done such horrible things." The dark man paused.

"Free will is much the same," Al interrupted, his youthful voice echoing. "Yet most religions believe god gave it to us. It is by our use of such that we are judged. Without it, we could be told to be happy. Why would god give people such a thing, knowing how horrible it could be? Yet… there are those who do good things. There are people who use free will to help others- and most alchemists live by the saying "Be thou for the people." Does that make it worth it?"

Scar looked over at Al, his expression unreadable, before looking down at his arm. "Ishbala says that if there is one good man…"

Armstrong cleared his throat. He had noticed a trend of comparing philosophies between his two companions as they went, and they would trade proverbs as easily as they traded the kitten. While it had lead to more than a few fascinating discussions, they needed to find the person they were looking for.

"We have business down the hill, gentlemen. Shall we go?" he asked, nodding in the direction of the shanty town.

Scar and Al nodded, shifting the kitten from Al to Scar. The kitten's eyes had opened, and she had begun to wobble about in the hands of the large men who cared for her. She typically purred like a freight train and would sleep under Scar or Alex's chin at night… Smitten? Oh yes, they all were.

The shanty town was rank with the scent of rotting food and sewage; men and women huddled around small fires. Yet they weren't fighting each other. There was no edge of fear or desperation hanging over the small town. It was a bizarre dichotomy- peace in a waste land. It was quiet as they stepped around the trash, trying to find a place to stop for the night.

"You're one mixed lot, aren't you?" a man asked, walking up and looking at the trio with curiosity. His body language was relaxed and unafraid. Even though his clothes had seen far better days, they had been mended and were relatively clean. There were a few men behind him, wary but not overtly hostile. Apparently this was the headman of the town.

"Yes, you could say we are," Al spoke for them. "We don't mean you any trouble."

"You won't find much here- this is the end, the last place most people go when they are running. By then they have lost everything. However, we do accept anyone, without question… though, I'm curious- are you all from Lior? We've had quite a few refugees from there to cross our way," he asked.

"No, we're looking for someone in particular. What happened in Lior?" Al asked, his voice squeaking high. Armstrong opened his mouth to answer, but he felt his shoulders slumping.

"Lior is in a civil war right now over their prophet."

"That can't be! Cornello was proven false! We-"

"Whatever you have heard, I can only tell you what I know," the man answered placidly. "And that the civil war has raged there since the military went to quell it. They didn't do a good job, apparently…"

"But the people saw, they _knew_," Al whispered, sounding lost. Scar looked at him, then away.

"We came here looking for a man of Ishbal. His face is scarred. We mean him no arm, just asking for information." Scar's attention was more on Alphonse than it was on the questions he was asking.

"Ah, him? Yes… he lives on the outskirts. He's old- but he should still be awake. Come with us," the headman answered, nodding. The small group with him fell back as he turned to lead them, and Scar stepped behind Alphonse.

Alphonse didn't notice.

"Did the military- why didn't they tell us? Ed and I- we thought we had saved Lior!"

It was Armstrong who answered. "Another prophet appeared, claiming to be the true Father. Factions arose, for and against, and they began to fight each other, then the arrival of the military exacerbated the fighting, until the city was under siege."

"You knew?" Al asked, breathless.

"I knew because Lt. Colonel Hughes knew and was going to report to Colonel Mustang. I don't know if he got the chance before the court martial. I was assigned to follow you before that."

"Why didn't you tell _us?" _Al asked, accusing, his voice hurt and filled with the tears he could not shed.

"I cannot speak for Colonel Mustang, but if it was me… I would want you to concentrate on your goal. You and your brother did what you could for Lior- and you would have saved that town if this newcomer had not shown up. I- and Mustang, I'm sure- wanted you two to find the thing you searched for, and to be away when everything went downhill. You are both intelligent boys, but boys nonetheless."

"Adults make no sense," Al muttered, turning to scratch the kitten on the head. "Why not just tell us things? Wouldn't that clear up a lot of trouble?"

Then the most bizarre thing happened. It made Al and Armstrong stop and stare in amazement, and their escort pause.

Scar laughed.

It wasn't loud, it wasn't silly or uncontrollable. It was a quiet chuckle, soft and almost overlooked.

"Who are you and what have you done with Scar?" Al accused, turning to him. His eyes were still obscured by his glasses, but he reckoned he could see a smile there.

"Your words remind me of a time with my brother, before. He was much older than I… and there were many times when I simply did not understand him. I wish we could have spoken as adults, truly."

There was an odd note in his voice; one Armstrong took to be regret. To understand others was a trait he had cultivated and thus could not brag about, but he valued it nonetheless. Words unsaid, even cruel or harsh ones were one of the hardest regrets to bear under in your life. Even for someone as strong as he was.

"After we're done with the Exile, we need to go to Lior. I'm sorry, Scar- I can't just ignore what I heard," Al said, looking away from the man. "I still plan to keep my promise."

"Very well."

"I will go with you, Alphonse Elric," Alex added. There was a nod, and Alex felt a strange smile curl up under his mustache. He knew who Al truly wanted to go with him. However, he could not ask.

"We can leave in the morning."

* * *

It was nearly midnight, and Hughes rubbed his eyes tiredly, looking up at his picture of Elysia to give him strength.

The telegram from his "mother" had been from Hawkeye, informing him that they had arrived, and that Roy was recovering. It had been a shot of adrenaline into his faltering heart; not to mention his exhausted brain.

Since then, he had been keeping his people out of trouble and investigating Lab 5. Not to say that it had been easy- Basque Gran was still clearly in power, but there was an indication that he was falling out of favor. Other players had smelled the blood in the water and were making their own power plays while the Fuhrer watched it all.

Still, Archer had been called out and that snake was now roaming in the grass. It made him… nervous…

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he sighed. The Fuhrer had taken no official stance on Lab 5, was still pursing the civil war in Lior… The man was so damned unreadable. Gran was his right hand, so did that mean the conspiracy went all the way to the top? Tucker was alive and Gran had been using him. There were successful human based chimeras out there, and they had been making experimental Philosopher's Stones. Apparently, behind it all… were homunculi.

"Why the hell do the legends say people die if they get too close?" Hughes muttered, reaching for coffee. It was empty. With a groan, he got up to fetch more… accidentally dropping half his notes on the floor.

With a grunt, he got to knees to pick them up, looking at the strange pictures that Ed had tried to draw for him before he left. They had the ouroborous tattoo, the alchemy circle in the lab…

He dropped them on his desk, sighing loudly and searching for the coffee carafe, grimacing because the pot was old and the liquid cold. He poured a cup anyways, before returning to his desk.

There was a map of the country, half under the various notes and Ed's awkward drawing. He paused.

He picked up the drawing and then glanced at the map, and he felt the blood drain from his face.

"Holy… shit."

He grabbed his coat and made a run out of his office, to find the safest phone booth he could. He had to contact the Elrics.

* * *

"It seems that the shrimp has gone to his teacher's," Envy said, sitting in a phone booth. "It also looks like this is where Greed might have holed himself up." The receiver was next to his ear as he chuckled. "I take it that you'll be sending some of the others?"

"_Of course, Greed cannot defy me. He needs to be shown who truly pulls the strings here."_

"Like we could forget," Envy smirked, looking up at the night sky. "Of course, considering that other runaway…"

"_Any news on that man?"_

"I'd have fucking told you if I had," Envy snapped, baring his teeth at the phone. "I want that wannabe bastard as much as anyone. We're not going to let him get away."

There was a soft chuckle from the handset.

"_Worry about Greed first. I know where that man will be going now."_

Envy snorted. "Yeah, where?"

* * *

Edward tried to keep himself from blushing as he watched Roy out of the corner of his eye, as they built their fire for the night and prepared themselves to sleep.

He really hadn't expected… not really… and then Roy had…

"You're blushing, Ed," Roy teased, meeting Ed's eyes warmly- and Ed had to look away. His face was still burning up from what happened earlier… he'd wanted it and it had been good and the object of his liking (love) wanted him back…

"I think there's another rain storm coming in," Ed muttered, trying to change the subject. "I saw it moving this afternoon, after, we- ah-"

"I gave you a blow job and you gave me a hand job," Roy deadpanned, and then smirked. "Edward…" He stopped, sighing. "Your brother is going to kill me. Then your teacher is going to kill me. Then Hawkeye will shoot off my cock and then kill me."

"_Who are you calling so short that a gun fired directly at him would pass by because he was a smaller than a molecule and couldn't defend his boyfriend you damn kitty bastard?_" Ed roared, bristling and hissing. Roy smirked again, before leaning down to steal a kiss.

It effectively cut off the tirade before there were casualties, and it left Ed dazed and pleased.

"Who's the cat here, Ed? Are you going to start purring now?"

"Shut up." The flush came back to his face. "I know you think I'm cute so- so- shut up." He really didn't know anything about this.

To his surprise, Mustang did so, but he kept smiling and shaking his head. "You are cute." A strange, pained expression creased his brow. "I never… I'd never thought you would feel like that for me. Hell, I didn't want you to think of me as-"

"As more than Colonel Bastard. I know, Mustang," Ed said. "You didn't want anyone to know you cared. Suck it up- I know you do."

"I'd rather suck you."

"Oh shut up!" Ed was still smiling. The sky had gotten dark while they talked, and he felt… nervous.

The evening had been uneventful, slow and pleasant, as they traded jabs back and forth. Eventually they ran out of things to say. When the silence fell, it was… quite awkward.

"Want to, um, sleep now?" Ed asked. His feet shuffled as he sat down. What were they supposed to do now? Did they kiss again? Wasn't that what couples did? Were they a couple?

"Ed… your heart is racing. Calm down." Roy still seemed amused. "I'm not going to molest you in your sleep… quite yet. Not if you don't want to, at least." He sat, leaning back, eyes glittering through half-lidded eyes. Being marooned looked good on him; his hair was ruffled, his clothes were shabby and he sported the beginning of a beard. Add in the fact that he looked utterly boneless and relaxed…

He looked good enough to eat and Ed was drooling.

"Go ahead, kitty bastard."

* * *

The boy watched the pair retreat into their den, curious as to what would happen next. He had watched them all day now… They hadn't caught his scent, though he thought the big one might have once or twice.

He wondered if he should talk to them.

The little boy took a moment to ponder that, considering how to make clothing like theirs so he wouldn't bother them (though that seemed to be a moot point, as they hadn't worn their clothes much that day) and what to say. He became so engrossed, so preoccupied with this thoughts that he didn't notice the dingy that had come ashore.

"You sure about this, boss?" the short man said.

"Yup. Getting hold of them will really, really piss off the people at the Lab. Don't you feel like pissing on their heads a bit? Or are you going to cringe, Dorochette?"

"Revenge ain't my cup of tea. Ask Marta."

The little boy just watched, wide-eyed, as they headed towards the two other's den.

* * *

The night wind had started to howl, and a storm raged outside.

"Isn't it spooky?" Winry asked her grandmother, who sat in her favorite chair, smoking her pipe and reading the local paper. "The wind sounds like its crying, like a ghost wanting to return!"

"Ghosts, huh? Winry, you know there's not such thing as ghosts," the old woman answered, taking her glasses off to polish them.

"Well, it makes for good stories on a night like this," the blond girl answered, deflating, and going back to her original task- making tea.

"Sweetheart, there are enough spooky things in this world. We don't need ghosts," Pinako waved her off, still engrossed in her newspaper.

Winry sighed, rolling her eyes at her grandmother. Really- the storm _was_ spooky. Lightening made the sky bright as day as it flashed, thunder booming in the distance. Yet there was little rain so far, just the wind making the trees and shutters thrash.

"Don't give me that kind of cheek, young lady!" Granny answered, raising her voice.

"But you've no imagination!" Winry began to yell back… and did yell, because the wind died leaving her voice to take up the slack.

"Winry, if you knew half of what I've seen-"

The door opened with the suddenness of a gunshot crack, and a large figure stood in the door, coat flapping in the wind. Lightening decided to help the dramatic moment by lighting the man from behind and obscuring his face.

"OH my GOD it's a ghost!" Winry shrieked, dashing behind Pinako and hiding behind her chair. Den, ever faithful to his humans, began to growl menacingly.

Then the man stepped inside… And the mundane light of their lamps showed him to be a normal, blond haired man in a suit and coat.

This is what made Pinako drop her pipe. "It's you…"

"Pinako," the man said, looking distressed. "I can't find my house."

To be continued.

A/N: I think… I think I'm going to shorten chapters cause this one just about killed me… eyes go buggy


	20. Chapter 20

**Departure XX**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairing: Roy and Ed, others mentioned

Warnings: Shounen-ai, divergence from episode 13, chimera!Roy and possible OOC.

A/N: Will involve more sex from now on- if it is graphic I will cut it from the version posted on FF.N. It would otherwise be posted in my livejournal.

Winry blinked up at the tall blond man, realizing exactly why he looked so familiar. The tawny eyes, the hair, the shape of the nose- it was all Edward. Ed's pained "You caught me" smile creased the man's face while the glasses fell down his nose. Even the length of the hair- it all shouted "Edward!"

The man's face was pained, but lost…

"Long time, no see, Hohenhiem," Pinako said, eyes narrowing through her glasses. The man turned to her, startled. His eyes widened briefly before a smile lit his face as he looked at her, and he scratched his beard.

"Yes… it has been. I'm sorry I barged in- I was just so surprised that the house was gone… How are Trisha and the boys doing? If the house is gone they had to have moved away…"

"You don't know?"

Winry looked at her grandmother, who was staring at the blond man with pity in her eyes. "You haven't changed at all. No matter what you've done with your life… you haven't changed."

The blond man's shoulders drooped.

"Hohenhiem? Granny, who is this?" Winry finally found the nerve to ask. Yet even as she did, the man stepped to the bureau covered in pictures. They ranged from her parents at their wedding, to Ed caught with a fish dangling from his mouth, hair pulled up in a short pony-tail and looking like a total geek. There was a small one, tucked off into a corner, half covered because Ed hated it. It held Trisha Elric, and a tall man, both presenting their two children with pride to the camera.

The newcomer pulled the photo free, looking lost as he gazed at it.

"You."

"Winry, this is Hohenheim Elric… Ed and Al's father," Pinako said simply. "And Hohenheim… Didn't you know that Trisha died almost seven years ago? The boys did their best to find you."

The man didn't turn around, but bowed his head. "Ah… no, I didn't. I wish I… could have returned sooner. Those boys probably hate me, don't they?"

"Ed does. Of course, he was always too much like you for his own good. Al doesn't remember you enough- but bless him, that boy is too much like Trisha. He'd forgive a person anything done to him… it's hurting others he can't forgive you for." Pinako tilted her head to the side, observing the man's profile.

The man continued to leaf through the pictures, his distress growing as he saw Ed and Al grow from babes to boys, into the two that had left home. "I missed so much… And that woman succeeded." He exhaled, looking off into the distance.

"You can stay here for awhile. There's a room upstairs we let patients use." Pinako put her pipe back in her mouth.

"Still smoking? Didn't I tell you it was bad for your health?" the man asked absently, and then looked startled that he had spoken. His gaze turned inward before a self-deprecating smile turned up his lips.

Pinako lifted an eyebrow. "You did, but I'm too old to change. Time, sad to say, rushes away with people…"

"It does." The man sighed, gently caressing the photo. "It carries everything away- people, places, even things. Nothing lasts forever, no matter what you do."

Winry backed away. This guy was just… odd. Then she frowned. Once upon a time she had looked through her grandmother's photo albums… There was something she should remember. Something completely relevant but her mind dismissed out of hand, because there was no way that this could be that same man.

No way at all.

"I'll show you upstairs, Hohenhiem. We can talk about where you've been all these years later."

* * *

_He prowled through the jungles of his dreams, through dense undergrowth, searching for his next prey on large paws…_

Roy cracked his eyes open, hissing in pain as light hit him.

"Come on, wake up, fucker. Those scratches fucking hurt," a voice called, and there was a sharp pain as his ribs were kicked.

He could smell prey, humans, and something disgusting. It was rotting carrion… and then there was a smell like gunpowder that he recalled all too clearly. With a sudden jerk, he tried to roll on to his hands and knees- but couldn't move.

He roared, the Other enraged as they fought, arching and thrashing on the floor against the bonds that held them. "_Let us go! HOW DARE YOU CAGE US? I'LL RIP YOU TO SHREDS YOU BASTARDS! You LET me GO or I'll hurt you!"_

A voice gasped, before rasping. "You're using human words?"

Roy's eyes snapped up to see a familiar upside down face, and a feeling of such anger and loathing filled him that he had no more words to use. He and the Other were in perfect agreement.

Tucker was there… and Tucker would become prey.

"I will crush your skull with my teeth then eat you," Mustang heard himself say, but was not speaking just as himself. The Other had come forward, using the words that had confused it- her- so badly earlier. "You took me from my territory and you killed the kits- I will have you as-"

"Calm down," a voice said from the side. "I've never had it that bad but you can't let the animal keep doing that." He could smell this one. It was the snake. "You'll get control back when you calm down…"

"We both hate you!" Roy shrieked. He didn't want control back; he wanted to sink his claws into Tucker's flesh. He wanted to-

"He's the only person who could turn you back," the snake said desperately- and then there were hands grabbing him from nowhere, holding him back from thrashing. "You'll hurt yourself!"

Roy's eyes fixed on her, as he hissed once more… only to be interrupted by a familiar laugh.

"Hey, Major Flame … though I heard it became Colonel- Tucker here told me you had one hell of a demotion later. You got dismissed from the human race."

Roy froze and the Other went silent. It was the voice of a predator he knew, and the knowledge that they could both become prey so quickly shocked the Other into silence as they looked up.

Kimbly loomed over them, gazing down with his watery yellow eyes. "Long time no see, pretty boy."

_He should be dead!_

He had been there. He had been at the court martial. He had been there to watch the firing squad… And Roy Mustang knew that the execution had been staged as well. After all… he had first hand evidence that the State rarely let go people they thought would be potentially… useful.

A shiver crawled down Roy's spine as he recalled this man, the Crimson Alchemist. Once, he had admired him. He had thought himself a coward and that this man was brave, so easily carrying out his orders.

Then Roy had killed the Rockbells, and he realized that the man was simply a sadist.

Those yellow eyes burned with a hunger before Kimbly crouched, leering in pleasure at the fear on Mustang's face. He buried his hands in Mustang's short hair. "I guess I could call you pussy cat now, couldn't I? Hey, Tucker… he's a little different from the others. What did you do?"

Tucker was still looking at Roy with a mixture of fascination and alarm. "I was under orders to reconstruct his mind… but we were also trying for some experiments outside of the range Marco had perfected. He had created mostly human chimeras, basically humans with a few animal traits… I had wanted to expand on that, and see exactly what animal properties could change the human ones. Also, Gran had wanted to use Mustang for reasons other than combat and I was to… make the chimera more obedient." The former State Alchemist crouched near Mustang, almost awed. "You had no higher functions. You weren't thinking like a human at all when I last saw you… How did you get your mind back? I had thought the bonds of your mind, body and soul were completely shattered."

Roy was holding completely still. He could feel blood seeping out from under the ropes that bound him; he had thrashed hard enough to rip his own skin. Still… this was _Kimbly_. The man had no respect for life of any kind. Even if Tucker was prey, this man was a predator. There weren't many animals out there that killed for no reason besides hunger… It baffled the Other as it struggled to comprehend the memories Mustang had. He felt it sifting through his disjointed and muddled memories of Ishbal and pulling out what made sense to it.

The fingers in his hair were firm, stroking through the thick, slightly coarse strands and down over one ear to the base of his neck, scratching slightly.

Mustang jumped, and the Other came to startled attention. _Mate?_

Tucker's eyes missed nothing; not the jump or the sudden flush in Roy's face, or way he froze, sweat beading on his forehead.

"The animal is influencing you," the chimera murmured, eyes fixed on Mustang. "The ones who captured you told me you were… being intimate… with Edward Elric before you were captured."

_Oh god- oh no. Ed- where are you?_

"Where is he?" Roy asked weakly, trying in vain to suppress the shivers going down his spine. He didn't need to glance over at Kimbly to see the cruel smirk on his lips as his fingers scratched down his back. "What do you all want with-" He stopped, hissing as his eyes closed, his ass doing its best to lift in the air as Kimbly's fingers reached the small of his back. His body was already flushed, on a hair trigger as he remembered what had happened before being knocked unconscious. He and Ed had been distracted, completely unaware of any dangers as they had focused on each other. He could still remember the sweet moans, the taste of Ed's sweat and the feeling of his hands, flesh and metal, moving up and down his sides.

They hadn't managed to get their clothes off before they had been attacked… Part of him had noted how unfair, how completely unfair it had been that they had been ambushed leaving him hot and bothered and _wanting_. He had felt so desperate right then that he was even considering what he had denied himself earlier… what was a little pain when he _ached_ so badly? It didn't seem so bad right then, to let Ed have him. So good, so warm…

Roy hadn't noticed that he had closed his eyes, moving into Kimbly's hands or the deep moan he had voiced.

"So the animal hormones are in effect," a voice interrupted. Roy's eyes snapped open and cold lead wormed through his gut. "That experiment was a success. I wish I had gotten to complete the others… you're still a work in progress."

Roy was aware he was panting, with Kimbly still stroking at the small of his back while Roy's hands kneaded the air. The Other didn't like this position, it wanted to kneel and offer his backside so that this male could go ahead and mount him. It didn't understand why he was fighting once again- after all, he had submitted to one male already. They'd been interrupted and it was _needed_… It was the way of things.

_I may not be all human, but dammit- anyone but Kimbly!_

"What others? What did you do to me?" Mustang asked, desperately wanting to focus on anything but that.

"Gran had thought you were… pretty. Once the experiments were completed, he wanted to keep you as a pet. One he could play with. He asked me to make you more, ah, compliant."

The implications were not lost on Mustang even as he pressed into Kimbly's hands. They had worked down to his ass, skirting over the cleft. Roy's entire body jerked, doing its best, without his direction, to impale himself no matter whose fingers they were.

"So you're saying he's in heat, doc?" Kimbly asked, offhand, as if he did not know the answer already.

"Effectively, yes… As of right now, it will be cyclic. The feline was female and we kept certain redundancies such as her reproductive organs in order to alter Mustang's body further after more research. He can't produce offspring once he's been mated because he obviously has no entrance or outlet for the offspring, but we were… ah… working on that part of the experiment as well."

Mustang cringed as his stomach dropped through his feet. He… hadn't thought of that. It hadn't occurred to him that- that the _thing_ sharing his head right now not only was the cat- it was female. Inside his head there was a similar, confused reaction. It was male? Then why did they agree on how _good… _

"_Ahhhh_…"

He didn't see Kimbly's sneer as he reached across Roy's body to find one of his nipples through the thin shirt he wore. Kimbly… sexy, evil bastard Kimbly from back in the war who stole a kiss that Roy had _meant_ to be given to Hughes. Hatred and confused lust in a mix of horror and pain from a war that never really ended- he could remember getting drunk, wandering about… and waking up in Kimbly's bed with his ass sore.

He had helped capture Kimbly for his court martial. The man had not gone willingly… and he had been grateful the rabid monster had been put down.

_Anyone but Kimbly!_

Kimbly's fingers against the crack of his ass pressed in, teasing him cruelly before pulling them out.

_Oh please don't stop- no- please-_

_I don't want _you, _you sadistic bastard… _

Kimbly chuckled before easing down Roy's pants, with a loud smacking of his lips. "You were a pretty boy then… but a sex kitten now?" More laughter followed and Roy wondered if there was enough left of his human sensibilities to die of shame. His dick had become hard at Kimbly's touch and he ached for more.

"How long is he going to be like this, Doc?"

"Until the chimera is unmade. However, he will behave like this for a few weeks, before stopping, and then repeating the cycle again. The only way to stop it would be for him to separate from the jaguar or for the process to be complete and he was impregnated."

Roy's eyes went wide as Kimbly laughed aloud. Then Kimbly's fingers were on his skin, deliciously cool even as they left him feeling slimy. Dirty and disgusted and damn well _hungry _as they skirted back to the cleft in his ass, finding his opening and resting there. Roy gritted his teeth, fighting the desire to urge Kimbly's fingers on further.

He needn't have bothered… the pressure increased, enough to barely penetrate-

And with a savage shriek, Mustang lurched backwards, impaling himself and shuddering with pure _relief_ that the _need_ was being satisfied. It was so strong that he felt nearly faint, moaning as he tried to shove them in further.

Then just as quickly they were gone, leaving him bereft.

"Uh, uh, uh… no getting started without me… I want you to beg for it first. After all, you did say no all those years ago," Kimbly purred into Mustang's ear, licking the sweat off his cheek. "You won't begrudge me a little fun at your expense, now will you?"

There was a disgusted grunt from somewhere in the room, and a growling and more than a few loud thumps. Roy heard them but was oblivious, biting his lip.

"No- I don't want you…"

Kimbly's hands reached behind his cock to palm his balls.

"Who do you want? At the moment, I think you'd beg for any dick available, kitty-cat…"

"_Edward!"_

* * *

_Cold!_

It was the first thing Ed was aware of, and on the heels of that, he realized he couldn't breathe. Water was flowing up his nose and he woke up, yelling in anger to protest- only to fall over in surprise.

Literally falling over…

Panic surged through him, making his stomach clench and cold sweat drip down his spine as he realized…

His automail had been disconnected. Both his arm and his leg were sitting on front of him, resulting in tying him down more effectively than any rope or chain. He couldn't transmute. He couldn't fight. He couldn't even walk without hopping- he couldn't even take a piss standing up. He had been effectively stripped of every defense and was helpless. It terrified him, not just because he was at his captor's mercy, but brought home a fact he ignored.

Edward was crippled. Without his automail he was weak. He had nothing to clap with, nothing to fight with… nothing at all. He _was_ nothing.

He choked on fear as it clogged his throat… until he remembered that he wasn't alone. Mustang was around, somewhere, and he couldn't leave him unprotected again. He had to get out of this situation because Mustang and Al were counting on him… and for the people he loved, he could do anything.

Steadying his breathing, Edward exhaled to stop his wheezing and opened his eyes.

Then he yelped.

"Hey, kiddo. What's up?"

The man's teeth were nearly as scary as Mustang's. He was dressed all in black leather with a furred vest over his shoulders and smiling like a perky piranha.

Black sunglasses hid his eyes and leaving Ed at a disadvantage as he jerked backwards to get away.

"Who the fuck are you?" Edward shrieked, writhing to sit up and get away. He couldn't get far- he was sitting on a bed in a stone, windowless room.

"You can call me Greed, kid. I'm your new best friend."

"Yeah right- where the hell am I? Where's Roy? Why the hell did you kidnap us? Are you will the military?" Anger started to tinge his vision red as he kept yelling. Anger felt good, anger felt right; it gave him some of his power back. He wasn't helpless when he could stretch his lungs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, tough guy… I know you're pent up cause we interrupted your playtime but calm down." The man leered, pulling back and his glasses falling down his nose to show his strange, lavender eyes.

At the mention of what they had been doing before they had been caught, Ed flushed. Embarrassment, no matter his current situation, made the flow of curses stop as he wanted to fall through the floor and die.

"You didn't answer my questions," Ed muttered. He was still afraid, still angry… but hell. He was still new to the idea of sex with anyone, and being interrupted, let alone caught, with Mustang when things were just getting _interesting_ was so damned… "Where's Roy?"

"The chimera? He's outside. Tucker wanted to get a look at him. Said he was some of his best handiwork, and he wanted to check out how he was doing. Since I wanted to talk to you, not him, I said go ahead."

"Tucker? That sick fuck is still alive?" Ed's eyes went wide. "After what he did to his own daughter? TO ROY? Shit you fucker-"

"I said calm down, hero. You're dealing with me now." Greed's eyes narrowed. "You can get your kitty back after we've talked. No one's going to hurt him until I say so, so chill."

Edward would have none of it- he struggled to get to his one foot, diving for his automail limbs, only to be caught around the waist by the thick arm of the man in front of him, who flung him backwards onto the bed again.

"You listen. I'm calling the shots here."

He couldn't brace himself for the fall- it was on his empty shoulder- but Edward's gaze flicked over the man's large hands as he wheezed for air and, for a moment, couldn't even gasp. There was the mark of a snake eating its own tail; the orouborous… The mark those people in black wore.

"You're a homunculus."

"Yup. That's I am. I also want to know how you put your brother's soul in armor, making him immortal."

"What the fuck? What are you are talking about? He's not immortal, he's-"

"I also am interested in a little revenge. Something I'm sure you can relate to," Greed said, eyes narrowed and smiling. "Now, if you really want to-"

There was a sound for outside, and a shriek, and Ed jerked as he heard the muffled cry of his name.

"Mustang! What- what's happening to him?" Ed struggled to sit back up, eyes going wide with worry. "You said he wouldn't be hurt!"

Greed's eyebrows went up. "He won't be… that wasn't pain, kid."

"Hell it's not-"

"Listen. You alchemists know of a little thing called equivalent exchange?" The man smiled mirthlessly and Ed growled. "I thought so. I want things from you, kid, but I gotta give you a few things first. So I give you back your arm, your leg- and you get to see that your man ain't hurtin' except in a good way. Got it? Then you listen to me and tell me what I wanna hear. Understand?"

Ed heard Roy's cries get louder… and he didn't like what he thought he was hearing.

"Why the hell should I trust you?"

"Cause I got Tucker. Tucker, now… he told me a few things about what he did to that experiment you ran off with. If the good doc's telling the truth… your kitty might just be finding another tom."

There was another howl of "_Edward!_" making its way clearly through the walls finally convincing the young man to act.

"If you are lying, you bag of shit, I'll rip your balls off," Ed vowed, but went still. Greed only smiled before picking up Ed's arm, and slamming it none-to-gently back into place.

Edward wailed in pain, but it didn't stop him from immediately grabbing his leg with both hands and ramming it back into its port. There was another shriek, so loud that the homunculus blinked in surprise when Ed hobbled to his feet a bare second afterwards and out the door.

* * *

Kimbly's fingers moved, slowly working in and out of Roy's ass. It was a disgusting tease- enough pressure to taunt the itch inside his body but no where near enough to satisfy him. Roy's mind fought, bringing up every mental image he found un-arousing, but the sensation filled up his world as his body, and the Other inexorably swamped his rationality.

He hadn't begged. He couldn't beg. He didn't need to- he was whimpering and sobbing, between howling wordlessly when he was touched.

He _wanted_ this- just not Kimbly- and he couldn't fight it.

Yet he weakly mouthed "no" when he was touched again.

He was lost… he couldn't fight back. He had tried. The Other told him to give in, there was no point in fighting anymore. He didn't need to- just sit back. It was _time_, and he hadn't listened earlier when the Other had told him to go ahead.

Warmth tingled up and down his legs, tightening his muscles as he moved with Kimbly's hands… One was teasing his ass while the other worked to his hair, over his ear… down his jaw…

There was a loud thump as a door slammed open, and a metal clang along with the slap of skin against stone becoming louder and closer.

His eyes turned upward, still wantonly moaning and panting, chest and shoulders on the floor while his ass waved in the air. Then his moan turned to one of shame as Kimbly caressed his jaw.

"Roy?"

In one word, Ed summed up his embarrassment, his shocked surprise, disappointment and some rage. The rage grew on his face as Mustang's face turned pleading, looking up at him with begging eyes.

_Help me,_ Roy wanted to say… but Ed was frozen, and so was he. One of them would have to act. He had to summon up his will- he had to get up, and move forward, even if it was figuratively.

"You're not invited," Kimbly murmured, leaning down to lick Mustang's ear. "I get to play with him- FUCK!"

Blood filled Roy's mouth, and satisfaction of a different kind filled his soul as he continued to crush Kimbly's hand with his teeth. Skin parted and muscle ripped, the many delicate bones of the alchemist's branded hand cracking under the force.

A jaguar killed by crushing the skull of its prey; Kimbly's hand did not stand a chance. He couldn't scream- the pain was too intense, he could not force the air into his lungs to cry out. When Kimbly finally wheezed, Roy let go, smiling through the blood staining his teeth.

It was all the motivation Edward needed as he leapt to grab Kimbly's ponytail and hauling him off the ground, and snap kicked with his automail foot. He wanted nothing more than to force the man's balls out his ears.

_Then_ Kimbly screamed and fell to the side, curling up to protect his mangled hand and bruised genitalia.

Roy didn't notice that the assembled chimeras left Kimbly, none moving to help him, but he did hear Ed twisting around to look at someone else.

"You fucking call this not hurting him? That asshole was going to- to-"

"Edward, you misunderstand. Mustang _needs_-"

"What the fuck? Tucker? What the hell are you doing-"

"Calm down. Your pussy over there needs you," another voice interrupted, drawing attention back to Mustang's state.

He was still moaning, rolling over on the ground trying to get cool. Edward was there- Edward, sweet Edward, warm Edward who had been there and had kissed him and been so good to him and would father such _beautiful _kittens and had such a lovely, lovely cock that would feel so damn _wonderful_ right then and he needed him. Roy needed Ed so much…

"Ed… ed… _Ed…?_"

"He's in heat, Edward. Or rather, the jaguar we merged him with has gone into heat. It doesn't make of a difference." Tucker's voice was distant and he smelled bad. Tucker wasn't what he wanted. Tucker smelled wrong, the chimeras weren't even considered, and the carrion scent was somewhere behind Ed.

"I can see that, you fucker. You did this to him," Ed growled, stepping over to Mustang and crouching down beside him. His body felt limp, weak, but Edward was so close. He rolled upwards, sitting and mewling pitifully, reaching for Ed's hand and leaning forward to put his head on Edward's shoulder. He hummed, inhaling Ed's healthy scent, before quickly licking his neck. He could hear Ed's breath picking up, his heart speeding in his chest.

"Roy? What are you-"

"Please, Ed," Roy murmured. "Please… please?" He pressed up against him, nipping his jaw gently before finding his mouth, sucking on Edward's lips. He ineffectually plucked at Edward's black tank top, but he couldn't pull it free of Ed's pants because of his hands still being tied together.

He couldn't see Edward's face, but he heard the horror in his voice. "Tucker- you had fucking better tell me what's wrong with him or you're going to wish you had died with Nina."

The smell of fear oozed off the animal scent of Tucker, but it was secondary to getting his skin next to Ed's. Roy rubbed his cheek against Ed's chest, moving down to his stomach and finally arching against his crotch, smiling in relief when he felt a bulge there.

What was Ed waiting for?

Tucker was talking and Edward was snarling something in reply but it didn't _matter_. It didn't matter because Ed was _there_ and he was wanting, and he was _Ed_. He was Edward, who came for him when he was hurt and who told Roy he loved him, who he really cared for… Cared for, would protect with every fiber of his being because this boy could do amazing things, and because he would make the awful, intolerable heat _stop._

"Edward… help me?" Roy's voice was thready, barely over a whisper, and Edward froze.

"It's okay, kitty bastard. I'll help you."

Edward had rushed out of the room, only to find Mustang not in pain, but with his ass in the air and whining for the other man's cock.

It had been a shock, painful and disgusting, and he was struck with the sudden doubt of Mustang really wanting _him_… That he would willingly take it up ass for any passing male- until Mustang had bitten the man.

His rage had consumed him then, and he had taken action.

"I told you, you hurt him and you'll regret it," Ed growled, doing his best to keep his attention on the situation. That was hard with Roy fawning on him, caressing and moaning against him, and Ed took a deep breath. His cock had started to rise, and Mustang found it with startling quickness. His own thoughts were rapidly going south, despite his anger with Tucker and Greed.

"What did you do to him?" he had shouted, and Tucker had explained about the heat. That Roy had been altered to be made… pliant, and Ed felt sick all over again.

"See, he wasn't being hurt at all," Greed said, with a toothy smile. "Kimbly here was just trying to help."

"Yeah, help get himself off. I think Mustang said 'no'."

"You going to fuck him then? He won't get any rest until he's had sex at least once- and who knows how long he'll be like this anyways…" Greed smirked.

"It's a great way to get my help, fucking my- my-"

Greed rolled his eyes. "Oh, all right. Cause I'm a nice guy, and cause you'll have to listen to me afterwards- go fuck your pussy there. But remember- I'm letting you do this out of the goodness of my heart."

Ed didn't believe it for a moment, but he didn't have a moment to care- not with a half naked Roy turning to rub his ass against Ed's leg. Edward gave in quickly after that.

"Where?"

Greed's eyebrows rose. "You aren't going to give us a show?"

Ed's face flamed.

"No? Well, the Devil's Next is always ready to fulfill your needs." Greed pointed back to the room where Ed had awakened. "You'll find everything you need."

Edward nodded, not paying any attention, but transforming his automail to cut Roy's hand's free.

Mustang's breathing was ragged, and so was his own. Ed didn't look at his audience- especially not Greed. He didn't want to see their leers. He was embarrassed enough about-

-about-

Oh shit.

* * *

Roy and Ed stumbled into the bedroom, after what seemed like an eternity under Greed's eyes.

Edward was trying very hard not to think of what he was about to do. Okay, he couldn't really avoid thinking about it- Roy was arching against Ed, actively pawing at his own ass and crotch and licking Ed's face and neck desperately, cooing words of need.

It was embarrassing.

"You realize this…" His words were cut off by Mustang's kiss, pulling them both down onto the bed as Mustang tangled their limbs together, his hands pulling up Ed's shirt to caress his sides.

The man was a good kisser, even with his teeth and the taste of blood still on his lips. Edward nearly lost his train of thought, and even his worries about the mechanics. He rapidly fired through what Sig had taught him: stretching, lubricant, condoms, and prostate. Could he do all that?

Not when Mustang already had his hands down Ed's pants.

"Roy-"

"Hurry, Ed," his voice was a high whine. "I _need_ you. Need. Can't think. Just- just want…"

Ed took a deep breath, wincing. Mustang was his responsibility, and he would have to take care of this.

"I'm going to, to do it. Just calm down, all right? Where's the lubricant?" Ed muttered, swallowing hard and sitting up and nearly falling off the bed when his legs tangled up in his leather pants. He kicked his feet free; thankful he hadn't gotten his boots on earlier. His pants, and then his shirt, were quickly dumped to the floor, leaving him feeling naked, aroused, confused and unprepared.

Mustang was the older one here, presumably more experienced, but he was panting and incoherent. He was in no condition to lead anything. Taking a look down, he saw the older man removing his own shirt, treating Ed to the sight of his lovely pale skin, spots and scars dotting his hide.

He was delicious.

Ed's hands trembled, eyes devouring Mustang as the older man lay back on the bed, and Ed fumbled through the drawers until he found a jar of what looked and felt like lubricant.

"You have to tell me what to do here- don't get mad at me if this is the worst sex you've ever had," Ed warned, and Mustang blinked at him. He took a shuddering breath, and a little more sense seeped into Mustang's dark eyes.

"Right… right, we're going to now," Mustang muttered, relieved. He wiggled, rolling on to his hands and knees. "Been stretched enough already." He smiled weakly. "Just… put some lube on your cock and mount me."

Ed stared. "That's all? Aren't we supposed to- well- kiss and stuff?" He edged over, having some trouble walking, and rolling Mustang on to his back. Roy was licking his lips, eyes fluttering.

"Ed, please, go ahead and get it over with," Mustang murmured. "I _need_ you to fuck me. _Please._"

The words made Edward flinch. "You're acting pathetic, Mustang." His face screwed up, before he leaned down to kiss him. "I- I don't want this to be a stupid meaningless fuck, okay? I-"

"Ed," Roy whispered, putting one of his clawed fingers against his lips, sweating and flushed as his chest heaved up and down. "I'm glad it's you." His lips moved and for a moment Edward thought he heard Mustang say something about kittens. That made no sense at all. "If this has to happen, I'm glad it's you."

Not exactly reassuring, but Ed's libido didn't care. Mustang's lips and tongue were against his, sending heat stabbing down to his groin and his hands were fumbling for the condom… which he promptly dropped.

There were soft little moans, whimpers and mews coming from the larger man beneath him and his mind didn't bother to find the condom on the floor. He liked those sounds, wanted to make more of them, and let his flesh hand investigate Roy's skin. His nipples were already hard nubs, eliciting a hiss when they were touched. Ed's metal hand found the tube of lubricant again, and he sat up to find it.

"Edward, please-"

"Hold on, kitty bastard," Ed growled, pulling his hand back to open the tube and squeezing it into his hand. His cock was already hard and he moaned as he slicked himself. Leaning over, he kissed Roy's lips, opening his legs and not even thinking about the size difference. Much.

Need and sense warred on Mustang's face as he lifted his legs up further, grabbing behind his knees. Edward didn't pay attention, before bracing his hands against the bed and pushing his hips forward and _in._

Tight heat sucked Edward inside, with no resistance- Mustang's body welcomed him and the moan Roy made was _heaven_. Ed could feel Roy's rapid pulse in his own body, his breathing in Ed's ear. He almost stopped, but kept moving until he was fully seated within Mustang's body.

A few months ago he would never have considered this, never have believed it if someone had told him that Mustang would be shaking underneath him as he pulled back for another thrust. He would have called that person a liar. He would never have believed that Mustang's body felt so _good_ as it throbbed around his cock as he buried himself again. And again.

He would never have believed that Mustang was begging, encouraging him with his whispers of _yes_ and _there, god, Edward-_

_"Harder! Please!"_

Edward groaned, whimpering softly.

"Ed, touch me," Roy murmured, finding his flesh hand and leading it down to his own cock. "Move your hips up- up- oh god, there-"

Thinking during sex was not a good idea, but it didn't take Ed long to figure out he was aiming for Mustang's sweet spot or that he really, really loved watching Mustang like this: out of control and sexy as hell. The man's head was thrown back, teeth clenched as he clawed the mattress under him, ripping the cotton sheets.

It didn't take long- both were horny as hell, and Mustang came with a long, feral cry, his body clenching around Edward's dick. It set Edward off- it was almost embarrassing how quickly he came. His body seized, emptying himself into Mustang's willing ass.

Exhaustion flooded them both as they went limp, Ed falling forward onto the older man's body and having to fight sleep.

"Thank you, Edward," Mustang whispered, wheezing slightly. "Thank you."

It was so good to hear him sounding sane again… He was awfully comfortable, too. Sleep reached out, snagging him with careful teeth and dragged them both away.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" Ed answered, resting his face in the crook of Mustang's neck.

There soft, querulous noise- before sleep finally took them both.

Morning dawned slowly over the desert and on two figures as they began their slow march across the sands. One was flesh and blood, the other seemingly covered in a massive suit of armor. There were no words, no words at all, as they continued walking on.

The suit of armor drooped, and the mountain of muscle next to him sighed, gently putting one of his ham sized fists on one armored shoulder.

They continued this way for what had to have been hours, heading in the direction of the frontier city Lior. No words, nothing but the occasional mewl from the kitten who rode on the living man's shoulder.

The footsteps became slower, and slower, with each passing mile until the sun was beating down overhead. They had been told of an oasis in this direction; they would stop there to rest during the heat of the day.

And still, the steps became slower when they saw the few palm trees and the spring situated in the desert. The heat was becoming stifling, and they both paused, looking at the figure sitting beneath one of the large trees.

"What kept you?" Scar asked, looking up.

To be continued.

A/N:

And I will finish this story. It's just going to take me a bloody long time to do it. My new job is running me ragged, and then I have started back to school. Then there is the smut- and I am sad to say, while I enjoy it, I always feel awkward writing it. Wish me luck, please. Concrit is much appreciated and I love you all for reading this and being patient with me. I'm even leaving the smut so it can be read at ff.n. Thank you all for encouraging me when I've been spastic these past few weeks.


	21. Chapter 21

**Departure XXI**

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Roy and Ed, leaning to Scar and Al, and others mentioned.

Warnings: Yaoi, angst, chimera!Roy, and possible OOC. Now with more lemony-fresh scent!

A/N: And hopefully, from here, it's all downhill. Things will hopefully start picking up, the plot congealing like cold gravy and with a better taste.

The question repeated itself in Scar's mind, over and over again, echoing dully and loudly enough to compete with the faint sounds of gunfire and the utter lack of life inside the city of Lior.

It was a strange question, one that he had come to ask after he had spoken with the Ishballan outcaste.

Simple and strange-

What _is_ the Philosopher's Stone?

It should not have been that important, considering that they were faced with crows picking at corpses as they walked up and down the rubble filled roads. The scene was so similar to his memories of Ishbal that he should have been ready to find the people responsible and bring them to Ishbala's justice. Instead, that question repeated itself through his mind.

The Philosopher's Stone was something that could turn sorrow into joy, bring victory to the fallen, and made despair into hope. It exceeded "equivalent exchange"… and it required the sacrifice of thousands of human lives. Why? Why did it take all that, to bring back a person from the dead? What would make a sane human being want to do such a thing? Evil men wanted power- but to make it required such sacrifice on your own part that a selfish person would stop before they began.

Yet a person with nothing to lose… a man who didn't hear the cries of his little brother, who was so deeply in love then had his beloved called back to god's side too early… and when his entire world was falling apart around him and he wanted nothing more than to save the only family he had left…

The sun beat down overhead on this once beautiful city, making the smell even worse. Alphonse was shaking, the sound of his armor clanking against itself loud as they passed in and out of the shadows cast by the hollowed out buildings.

The Philosopher's Stone was made to fix all this, yet required this kind of madness. There was no equivalence in its making…

It could do so much, perhaps, because so much had been paid for already. A credit of some kind, for the future, concentrated into a simple blood red stone…

Ishbala, he thought, if you exist, save me from such a world. Yet his god had not answered his prayers even as he still continued on in his heart, hoping against hope that he would be heard. There was truly nothing equivalent to a life- and something so precious, taken by one who had nothing to lose…

He looked down at his arm, ignoring the familiar sounds and smells of war. My brother- why did you do this to me?

So lost was he in his thoughts, that he didn't hear the stop of Alphonse's steps, he didn't pay attention and kept walking on, until there was a loud clanking.

"_No!"_

Whirling, both Scar and Armstrong saw Alphonse charge off, running at full speed into what had to be a group of twenty armed soldiers. They laughed- and underneath was the soft sound of flesh impacting flesh.

The boy hit them like they were ten pins, knocking half over with his momentum. The blue uniforms scattered, and Scar followed, smiling grimly…

Until he noticed one of the uniforms taking a swipe at Alphonse's helmet.

Without thought he swept in, kicking the soldier's feet out from under him, grabbing the gun that would have knocked the boy's head off and causing it to shatter. Another soldier went for the boy, this one with a knife, and again he reacted without thinking.

Then he saw what had sent the Alphonse into such a rage, and his own mind went up in flames. A tall woman, dark skinned and haired, almost Ishballan, was curled up on herself, around her swollen belly. She was bruised and bleeding from where they had gathered around her, and her clothing was in tatters.

His face didn't change, but he whipped one arm around to bring his right palm up, about to slap one of the soldiers in the chest and give him the justice he deserved-

The ground below him shivered and erupted, creating a wall and cutting most of the soldiers off from the alley where they had drifted. Armstrong stood up, from where he had punched the ground; his gauntlet's crackling with energy.

"Oh Rose, oh no, I'm so sorry- Rose, are you all right?" Alphonse asked, paying no attention to the last man left conscious of the group, just casually backhanding him into the wall.

"She needs medical attention," Armstrong said softly, kneeling next to the woman. His large hands carefully checked her injuries while tears made his eyes sparkle. "As well as food and water- she's dehydrated and malnourished." He finished checking for broken bones. "Scar- your robe, please. She needs the warmth."

Scar looked at him blankly, his mind still stuck on the fight and the peculiar fact that he had defended Alphonse Elric without hesitation or doubt. Stiffly he removed his tattered desert robe, watching Armstrong wrap it around the insensible woman.

"Rose- do you hear me?" Alphonse called pitifully, wringing his hands.

"You've been here before, Alphonse Elric," Armstrong murmured, getting his attention. "Do you know where we can take her to be treated?"

Alphonse paused, collecting himself- doing better than Scar, who was still blinking in surprise. "Everything's changed- but we could try near the church… and there were houses over that way." He pointed north. "We can see if there's anyone who can help. Rose," he whispered, looking like he was about to touch her, and pulled his hand back at the last minute.

Scar looked at the boy, feeling the tears that filled his heart and he could not shed. Even the worst of men could shed tears, and even in the deepest of suffering you could feel… So wrong, that this boy should be confined to cold, empty metal…

Brother… what would you have done?

* * *

Roy was aware of the scents first. The room was musty, smelling faintly of the rot that had seeped into the very stones of this hell hole. It was only a trace, because at the moment he was swamped under the earthy, strong musk of sex. His own scent was mingled with Edward's, completely and totally wiping out the scent of Kimbly. He was relieved- that man made him sick.

For the first time in what seemed to be years, his thoughts were clear again, lucid, without the need driving him. Instead, the Other curled contentedly in the back of his mind, enjoying the peaceful darkness around them. Ed was sprawled against him, face utterly relaxed, reminding him of his previous mate. He had been a lovely golden creature as well, though far larger. He could still remember the needing, his-

Roy shuddered, closing his eyes and turning his gaze inwards. _I'm human. I am still Roy Mustang… I'm not you._

He could nearly feel yellow eyes on his- not Ed's- presenting him with memories of _being_ the large cat. Non-linear images peeled back, one after another, of kits against his fur, soft mewls and longing to feel that again, of stalking prey through dense forests, that damn small rodent that _always_ eluded him…

It felt like him, he could smell, he could hear, he remembered his heart beating quickly through a stalk and a strike, and he could feel the other doing the same with his own memories. The Other had looked forward to this. The cat had wanted to go back to what she knew- den and kittens and hunting…

_I'm sorry._

_Tucker said it was impossible. I- we- we can't go back to being different. We're _this _now._

He was met with confusion and disbelief. It felt like his own- when he had realized he could not and probably never would, be able to accomplish his goals and that he was forever to be… this.

_I'm sorry. For us both._

He blinked his eyes open again, lifting one of his hands to wipe away the tears of pity he couldn't help but shed. He could feel the longing, the desire to return to where the cat had been… he quickly squashed his own desire to return to humanity, and to regain what he knew had to be forever lost.

Yet he felt the ache for those soft mews, the memories of his den, and the feel of leaves under his paws… Everything he no longer had. What the cat had… and he could feel her sighing in regret over his lost humanity. Bizarre, to pity himself twice, but he did. He had lost two different lives.

Of course, all of this speculation was to avoid thinking about one thing. The Big Thing…

Once the subject was dodged in his thoughts, it became possible to avoid, and his eyes traced the face of his sleeping lover.

He had nearly lost himself, nearly _begged_ Kimbly to fuck him. He could remember how desperate he had been and now Roy was utterly mortified… and he remembered begging, crying out for _Edward _to fill him up with his cock.

A shiver danced down his spine as he felt Ed's breath against his naked skin. He remembered the sounds of Edward's skin slapping against his, being filled… His face flushed.

He was never, ever going to call Edward _little_ again.

His body tried to drift back into sleep, and his damnable subconscious, talking to the Other, created images of children with black hair and gold eyes, or his face with Ed's coloring and…

It couldn't happen, he told himself, waking up with a feeling of bitter regret; not quite his own. It was impossible. Chimeras were usually sterile. Not only that- he was _male_. He shuddered. The idea of… that… was just wrong. He didn't think that- she did. But they both wanted...

He glanced over at Edward again, and wondered how it had come to this. Three months ago, if someone had told him he would have been desperate for Edward's skin he would have told that person he was mad. Mad, mad- that was what this situation was- mad.

He couldn't face this. Not now. He couldn't look at Edward when he woke up knowing that he had laid down and spread his legs, screaming like a queen mounted by a tom.

The words sent another shiver through him… and he licked his lips, human shame warring with the memory of how satisfying it had been. _Necessary._ Full and hot and slick and hard and… Something he would have liked, even as a full human.

Roy moaned. Ed was still asleep… and he could take a taste, couldn't he? He leaned down, mouthing Edward's collar bone. A little taste wouldn't hurt.

* * *

Edward slept hard, dreaming about his Kitty Bastard, begging silently for him not to leave. He had been angry and disgusted at the sight of Roy under another man's hands, and his dreams threw images of Roy leaning over and letting nameless, faceless men have free access to his ass. It kept on going, Mustang allowing others to touch him, caress him, and this time Roy wasn't fighting back.

It wasn't a Gate dream, it was his own fears, but it made him feel queasy all the same, until he remembered the taste of blood in his mouth and saw the gore between Mustang's teeth. Somehow that helped, even as he looked away. Then he felt hands lightly stroking over his skin and warmth and wet against his neck…

Eyes opening, Edward inhaled, hands flailing as he tried to find the source, and his real hand landed in thick hair.

"Roy?"

The sound of his voice had to have been what stopped Mustang's attentions; his grip was certainly too weak to do it. The sound was high and plaintive, almost a mew, and it made Mustang pull away with a snort. Dark eyes fixed on Edward's, wide and surprised, and Roy licked his lips as his chest heaved and nostrils flared.

"Edward," he answered, sitting up beside him, blinking repeatedly as his jaw moved without words passing his lips. Finally he found something to say. "Are you all right?"

All right? _All right?_ His mind shuffled through the past several hours, and he most certainly was not _all right_. He'd been made helpless, forced to watch as the man he really liked (loved, lusted after) act like a total and complete…

He peered upwards, looking up at Mustang's lips, imagining his teeth.

"Why'd you bite that guy?" he asked. "Right then… you would have wanted anyone. You _wanted_ him to fuck you." Edward's tone was low, unconsciously pained and whining. "You didn't care who it was."

Mustang didn't deny it, but he seemed to pull into himself. His expression was one of the most human Edward had seen since this mess began.

"You didn't see that man in my memories?"

Edward shook his head.

"That was Zolf Kimbly- the Crimson Alchemist. I knew him in Ishbal. He enjoyed… enjoys, watching people hurt. That was what he did- make people into living bombs. Making them explode." Mustang looked down to Edward, giving him a crooked smile. "I told you I'd never really had sex with anyone I loved before, and Kimbly took something from me I didn't want to give. Thankfully I was so drunk at the time I don't remember it."

Edward's chest froze.

"And what does that say about me?" _Tell me it's not true and that I mean something. _

Mustang's expression was pained again. "You have to know that I would never have even considered you as a lover, Edward, under normal circumstances. You _are_ beautiful, you are strong, but I was your commanding officer and-"

Edward sat up, hands and automail shaking as he turned away. He didn't want to hear this. He didn't want to hear Mustang, that old bastard, saying what he already knew. That this was a mistake, a one night stand, that Roy really, never could love him like he wanted.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders. "I should be grateful to the jaguar then." Roy's jaw rested on his shoulder, pulling him back against his body. "I couldn't accept it at first, but she showed me that you are very, very sexy."

Ed's brain fizzled.

"Now if she would just shut up about kittens," Mustang muttered, nuzzling Edward's ear. "I do want sex, but I want it with _you…_ so please stay with me. Don't leave me, not when I realized that it's you I want. Even if it's not how I would have liked it…"

Ed took a deep breath, smelling Mustang, his Kitty Bastard. "So, in other words, I need to stick close to you?" he asked softly, as Mustang's large hands went up and down his sides. Having the man be coherent was _much_ better than the hysterical fuck-me-now Mustang of a couple of hours ago. "When you become human again, you'll still-"

Teeth lightly pricked the shell of Ed's ear. "That doesn't matter." Ed didn't like the sound of that, but Mustang was gliding back down to Ed's waist. "Don't think about what might be. I want you for now, and the future can take care of itself."

Ed frowned- then smacked Roy's head.

"Don't- don't think like that. This wasn't meaningless. I am not going to be some- some throw away boy for you."

Roy growled, and Ed remembered where his teeth were. "No. I said I'd never had sex with someone I loved, or cared about, before. You're the first. I care about you- that much should be obvious, or I wouldn't be here. I-" he swallowed, then licked Ed's ear. "I could fall in love with you, and that's what bothers me, because I need you so much."

"What's wrong with-"

"I don't like being weak anymore than you do, Ed," Roy mumbled, voice husky before brushing Ed's hair over one shoulder and leaning down to lick his neck. Thinking was very hard after that.

"You aren't… just… equivalent exchange, kitty bastard." Ed gasped, tilting his head to the side. "You helped Al and me, you turned into this because you weren't going to turn us in. You took care of me, I'll take care of you." He reached back, putting his flesh hand on Roy's head, biting his bottom lip when Roy sucked just under his ear this time. "You'll get back on your feet and- and then," he moaned, unable to finish. "We can… we can…"

Roy didn't let him finish, tilting his head up and finding Ed's lips again.

"You're not in heat again, are you? Can you stop?" Ed wanted to shoot himself for asking. He didn't _want_ Mustang to stop.

There was another growl, and Roy pulled back. "I still am, I think, but it's not so bad. I can wait if you want."

"Don't you fucking dare," Ed hissed, twisting around and putting his hands on Roy's shoulders and pushing him backwards. "You do _not_ do this to a man and just _stop._" Ed looked down, straddling his waist. He was trying to get some kind of control of his emotions; so far, lust was the easiest one to handle. Didn't want to think, didn't want to deal- he just wanted to taste and feel and make Mustang howl again.

"Wouldn't dream of it," Roy answered, sounding light headed, reaching up and lightly running a claw over Ed's cheek. Their bodies shifted, allowing Ed to fit himself neatly between Roy's legs again.

"Did you like it?" Ed asked, abruptly. "This. Did you feel," he paused, turning bright red. "I know you came, but, um…"

His mind was foggy, but he kissed Ed, this time just to enjoy the feel of his mouth. "You're sweet."

"Am not!"

"Ed, you're ruining what mood there is."

"And you aren't answering my question!"

Roy gave him a quirky, odd smile. "Ed, for lack of a better metaphor, I was starving. I needed food, but that doesn't mean I couldn't taste the difference between beef jerky and steak."

"Great, you're comparing me to a piece of meat now."

Roy rolled his eyes, before sighing and rubbing himself against Ed and finding his lips again. "You aren't… and if you are so concerned, this time- we'll take our time."

Ed closed his eyes- there were words he clearly wanted to say, but had no idea how to say them. Not when warm skin was against his and he was thoroughly rested and his beautiful kitty bastard was being _such_ a bastard again.

"Take our time?" Ed finally worked enough spit back into his mouth to speak. "How do we-"

Roy chuckled and rolled them over, on top of Ed but straddling his waist, leaning over for a kiss.

"Like this."

* * *

All told it had been three weeks since Maes had last kissed his little girl goodbye. In that time, the world had changed, and here he was…

Standing in front of a butcher shop in Dublith.

He had been on the train, wary and sweating in his civilian clothes, until he had arrived here and had found the address Ed had given him before he had left. It had been a gamble, knowing where they had gone, but Hughes had thought it worth the risk, especially if an emergency occurred.

One had. This one was…

He walked into the butcher shop, not knowing what to expect, but absently feeling for his knives. No one was tailing, not yet, he didn't think anyone knew he was here beyond his own people.

"Welcome," a gravely voice called from the store counter, and Maes stopped on front of a man who rivaled Armstrong in height and girth, sans sparkles.

"Ah, yes, I'm here looking for a friend of mine. I'm told she was staying around here," Maes said, politely, wishing they had come up with some kind of sign/countersign before they had all parted ways. Besides, asking for Hawkeye was less threatening than asking for Ed, right?

"Depends on who's asking."

Er, right…

"Don't worry, he's with us," a calm voice interrupted, and Maes had to have figured that it would have been her to fix things. Hawkeye always did. "Though I cannot imagine what it was that brought you here. We didn't plan to meet up again until later."

The blond woman looked much the same- her hair was severely pulled back, dressed in trousers and blouse, with a broom in her hand instead of paperwork. Behind her stood Tim Marco and a formidable looking woman in dreadlocks, looking at him like a piece of trash.

Maes assumed this was their teacher.

"Where are Ed and Roy? I want everyone to see this," he stated, putting the battered leather briefcase that held his data on the counter. "Explaining this more than once will be a pain."

"They aren't here," someone replied, and he turned to another man, this one hauling a massive sack over one shoulder, "Izumi put them on the island-"

The man was shot a withering look that Maes knew had to be reserved for women only, from both Hawkeye and the lady with dreadlocks. Maes was married…

And while he wasn't as smooth as Roy, he knew how to deal with women; treat them like human beings and appeal to their better natures. Barring that, sweet talk worked.

"This is important- and I want all the alchemists I know of to see this. This is big. It's not just big, it involves the entire country and we have to get them here," he said, brooking no argument. "Now."

* * *

Greed leered as Ed emerged from the bedroom, sweaty and barefoot, hair down around his shoulders.

"So, kid, equivalent exchange. You got your fun, now you have to listen to me."

Ed took a deep breath, and lifted an eyebrow when Greed pushed over a glass. Picking it up, Ed sniffed it, and put it back down.

"I need a drink, but I need a clear head more," Ed deadpanned. Greed rolled his eyes.

"Sure, sure, but I thought you becoming a man would mean you could take a manly drink…"

"Cut out the bullshit. Tell me what you've got to tell me and let's get it over with."

Greed seemed delighted; eying Ed's still flushed skin and the unavoidable scratches. Apparently he wasn't finished trying to get a rise out of Edward. "You two must have had quite the little party. You made enough noise to wake the dead. Some of the living really got a kick out of it, too."

Ed's face turned red, but his expression didn't change.

"_Get on with it._"

Greed shrugged, before lifting his hand with the ouroboros tattoo. "You seen something like this before, kid?"

Ed nodded, pointing as the blood drained from his face. "That was what those things calling themselves homunculi had!"

Greed snapped his fingers, grinning toothily. "Got it in one, kid. That's _exactly_ what _we _are. Homunculi."

"If you all are homunculi, some alchemist had to have made you- and there's no record of successfully making one-"

"Well, you see, kid. This is how it works. Homunculi are made when a person tries to bring a human back to life, and fails. What you get are creatures like me."

Ed's jaw fell.

"There's no flies down here, kid."

Ed shut his mouth, goose bumps breaking out over his skin.

"Interesting as the subject is, I can't do alchemy. None of us can. It's one of our few weaknesses."

Greed continued talking. He knew the kid was smart- he'd probably get the point soon enough.

"I want something from you. From what Tucker's said you all but made your brother immortal. I want that. I'll _have_ that, and you'll give it to me."

Ed's lips pursed. "I've listened to what you had to say- I didn't say that I would do anything for you. What I did with Al-"

"What if I made it worth your while, kid?"

Ed glared. "Don't call me kid."

"Kid, once you hit a hundred, I'll stop. I've been around about a hundred and fifty. I ain't asking for much, not with what I plan to offer you. I've got a juicy bit of information that I'm sure you would just adore to have."

The bait was laid out, and the struggle on Ed's face and his squirming were obvious.

"I already know about the Philosopher's stone, asshole. I won't ever make one, either. I don't care if you do want to be human-"

"Human? Who the hell wants that? Everyone's human- I'm not called Greed for nothing. I want _power._ I want _women_, I want money- I want it all and I'll _have it._ "

The young alchemist's face twisted with disgust. "Yeah right- there's nothing you could tell me that would even convince me, and if you kill me no one will ever-"

Greed again cut him off. "Even if I tell you who has been pulling the strings for the past four hundred years? Who actually _made_ the Philosopher's Stone in the past- and that she's still around?" The homunculus sneered, leaning back and smelling his drink before tossing back a gulp. "The person who's been steering your life- and pretty much everyone else's?"

Ed frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the truth, kid. The _real_ truth. You up for it?"

* * *

"You slept out here again?"

The older man looked up, blinking in surprise as he realized that he had fallen asleep next to the grave once more. He could feel the wet seeping through his coat and pants, the chill air against his hair and skin. His eyes traced over the name of Trisha Elric before he met the blond girl's eyes.

"Yes, it seems I did. Time… just doesn't seem to mean much to me anymore."

The blond girl tilted her head, before placing a small bundle of flowers before a grave next to Trisha's. The names belonged to…

"My god, I thought you were Sara- how long ago did it happen?" he asked, standing up and dusting off. "They had a little girl- that was you? You- you've grown… the boys have grown too, haven't they?"

"It's been nearly ten years since my parents died," Winry answered.

"And Trisha?"

"Six."

Silence blew in after the wind, uncomfortable and unpleasant as man and girl looked at each other.

"Granny sent me out here to call you for breakfast," Winry finally continued, getting the impression that the man wasn't truly seeing her. He was seeing something else entirely. "Are you all right?"

"No. But that doesn't really matter, does it?" he said, shrugging. The emotion drained from his face. "I want to mourn, I want to take on the role of this life… but it doesn't exist and I don't have the energy to create a life of my own."

The man noted that his words were making the girl look like a fish- her jaw was slack and her eyes were overly large. Of course, they could be construed as being quite eccentric… He looked down at the grave.

"I think this is where I truly belong. Yet I cannot go there yet. A husband made a promise to his wife that I will keep." He looked over at Winry and smiled. "Do you know where the boys would have gone? I have something I need to tell them."

"Uh, sure… but sir, Ed and Al… last time anyone saw them, they were…" She swallowed hard. "They supposedly broke a man- a condemned man- out of prison. The man who killed my parents. They thought that Ed and Al would come here, but they never did and…"

"That means they thought it wouldn't be safe here for you." That much he knew and understood of those two. They were truly Trisha's sons. They both had a capacity for caring and love he could never possess. "Which means that they would go someplace they thought _was_ safe. If not their home, then were?"

"Where else _could_ they go?" Winry was puzzled. The man looked fondly down at Trisha's marker.

"Did anyone help them after Trisha died? Did they know someone they thought they could go to for protection? A mentor, a friend? Someone that few people knew about?"

Winry paused to think, shoulders hunched, and turned to head back to her house on shuffling feet. The man watched her, stepping forward as well.

Quiet still blew louder than the wind, even as the trees were their familiar green and he could smell fresh cut grass as the sun warmed the ground. All of it was lovely, all of it was nostalgic…

"And in the end, we can never truly go back. All we can do is remember and go forward."

Winry looked over her shoulder at him, still clearly puzzled, and then scratched her head. She was thinking hard, dredging up all she knew about the two boys- and the man was happy it was her he was talking to. No one would know them better than the friend who grew up with them. No one else would point him in the right-

"They left for about six months right after their mom died. Went someplace to learn more alchemy… I think their teacher could do it like Ed. You know- alchemy without circles."

The man behind Winry stopped, eyes wide.

"Without circles?" he asked, faintly. The sun on his shoulders could no longer be felt, the nostalgia of the path in the morning faded away. His heart ached at the thought of what those boys must have gone through.

Hohenhiem had known exactly the kind of despair it would take to break all the taboos; the sins of hubris and wrath that could make someone defy death. He couldn't condemn someone for that… Still, those boys…

"I think they told me once where it was. I need to go see if Granny remembers… but they could have gone there. If that lady was as strong as I remember, she might help them."

"They would go there," he said with finality. "Those boys always ran to their mother when they were afraid or hurt." He closed his eyes, shutting out the too familiar memories.

He hated those memories. He loved those memories. They were a thorn in his flesh that he could never be rid of, no matter what that awful woman told him. He was so lost in those memories, that he barely noticed the sound of steps and a scream…

The cheerful yellow house was the same, but Pinako was being held by a large, round man… and his eyes went wide when claws lanced through his body, and he came face to face with disinterested, mildly amused purple eyes.

"Well, well. Long time no see," Lust purred, lips quirking upwards as she withdrew her hand from his chest with a wet slurp.

He, unfortunately, was not as amused as she was. Winry had stopped screaming, but he could see the tears wetting her face.

He didn't like those tears; Hohenhiem had made enough women cry.

* * *

Winry shrieked in shock and fear as the man she had _thought _was Ed and Al's father swelled, exploding in a furious storm and crashing into Gluttony to knock him away from the old woman and flood the dry lawn and reform himself between the women and the intruders.

In Hohenhiem's place stood a tall, pale man, dressed in close fitting black trousers and sweater, the snake eating its tail just below his right collar bone. Pale purple, slit irises peaked out from his narrowed eyes.

"That hurt," he responded and woman shrugged.

"It was nothing permanent, Sloth."

To be continued.

A/N: I have been sick, had school, been burned out at work and otherwise had writer's block. I hope this chapter was decent and I hope the plot is still interesting. Merry Christmas, happy New Year and I wish everyone peace and joy. Hopefully the plot twist wasn't too confusing.


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